N - Nailing Nightmares
by Bdoyle
Summary: Continuation of Parenting Through the Alphabet, sequel to A Full Quiver. A stranger contests Fitz's adoption and sends the Coulson family into a tailspin as they and their friends try to unravel the mystery before losing their little boy.
1. Chapter 1

**N – Nailing Nightmares**

 **Part 1**

 _This one got away from me and just kept growing so I will post it in parts. Feedback is always appreciated._

"You've got a call on line three." One of the secretaries announced as she poked her head into to Phil's office.

He smiled and shook his head as he tapped a stack of paper into a neat pile and laid it in his open briefcase. "Take a message, Helen. I am out of here in…" he stopped and looked at his watch, "in just about now." He dropped the top of the satchel closed and snapped the locks.

"Says it's urgent, sir. Guy sounds pretty upset." The woman informed him with eyes wide.

"Give it to Mack or Elena," Phil informed her as he reached for his coat and took the briefcase in his hand.

"Tried that," she countered. "Said he would speak with you only, told me not to give up until you took the call."

Phil stopped and let out a long frustrated breath, dropped the briefcase back on the desk and his coat on the chair. "Fine, but it better be a real urgency not some ridiculous needy something or other." He reached for the phone as the woman started to pull out of the half opened doorway. "And call Skye's school, tell them I'll be a little late picking her up today." Helen nodded as she disappeared and Phil Coulson picked up the black telephone receiver.

"Coulson," he barked into it, already poised to chew out whoever it was.

"Coulson…"

Phil recognized the voice immediately.

"We have a situation…."

XX

Phil carried a jabbering Skye through the back door then set her down and pulled off her coat while she continued to regale him with the tales of everything that happened in preschool during the day. Ryan had hit Ethen with a block and sat in time out for a very long time. Chelsea had an accident and her mommy had to bring clothes. Darienne spilled her milk at lunch time and so on and so forth. At least that's what he got out of Skye's sideways descriptions.

Phil nodded although he was only half listening. His thoughts were a mile away…more like a continent away. He looked at the clock that hung above the kitchen doorway…half past four. He considered starting dinner. Trip was at basketball practice, would be until at least six and Melinda had taken the twins to a dentist appointment after school. (Hence his mission to retrieve Skye from preschool.) He stood staring at the clock, his mind a mix of the news he'd received as he left his office for the day and what needed to be done immediately as well as long term solutions to a very sensitive problem.

He felt a tug at the hem of his jacket and looked down at his youngest daughter's quizzical scowl.

"Daddy," she scolded. "I sayed I needa go pee-pee real fast."

Phil's mouth formed an 'O' as he hurried the little girl to the powder room. A few seconds later he held her up to the sink as she washed her hands, then carried her to her bedroom to quickly change from uniform to play clothes.

"So, angel, what do you want for supper?" He smiled as her head poked through the neck of her pink and purple sweatshirt.

"Why you cow me ain jo, daddy?" Skye responded as she pushed her hair away from her face and frowned at her father.

"Because you are a gift from heaven," Phil smiled as he sat the little girl on her bed, slid her sneakers on her feet then tied them. Skye sang some song about an overweight dog. He plopped her down on the floor and asked again what she might like for supper.

Skye folded her arms atop the mattress that was chest high to her and stared up at her father for a moment. "Momma say we have asetti for supore."

Phil laughed as he watched his little one's serious tone. "Spaghetti, hmmm? Didn't we just have spaghetti yesterday?"

"Daddy," Skye sighed. "Asetti is good for supore. It haves no breen, ownee red."

He smiled at the little girl's reasoning. Spaghetti was one of the foods she would eat without worrying she'd come across something green. Green was a color Skye avoided at all costs, though no one had any idea why and she was not very forthcoming with the reason.

Phil stood and lifted the little girl into his arms as he headed back toward the kitchen. "I think we might need a little variety, don't you?"

Skye thought for a moment as she bounced down the steps in her father's arms. "I non't eat biarity, daddy. It bees breen?"

Phil laughed as he walked back into the kitchen. "Sometimes, angel," he kissed her head and lowered her into the nearest chair, "but not tonight."

He'd pulled off his suit jacket, tie and dress shirt and now stood at the refrigerator door in a T-shirt and his suit pants. "I think some chicken…" He pulled a package out and set it on the table. "And some sweet potatoes…" four large tubers were set next to the chicken. Skye nodded at each item as her father continued. In the end Phil prepared baked chicken, candied sweet potatoes, rice, yellow beans (because they weren't green) and salad for those who were not green avoidant. He pulled an apple pie from the freezer and popped it in the oven, all with Skye's attempt at helping. With any luck everything would be ready by the time Trip stomped in the back door.

"Daddy," Skye sighed as she stooped and peered into the oven then turned to him. "I humgary. I have fitchies and grain jupes that no is pourpul?"

Phil wanted to smack himself in the head. He'd forgotten all about giving Skye an after school snack. It was generally a long wait for supper in the Coulson house and Melinda usually gave all the kids something light when they arrived home. He quickly poured a cup of white grape juice and grabbed a handful of those little cheesy fish crackers and set them on the table. Another trip to the powder room had Skye's hands clean when he plopped her into her seat and watched as she took a drink and chomped on the little yellow crackers.

The back door opened emitting Melinda, Jemma and a very grumpy Fitz. The boy kept his gaze to the floor as he stomped past his father and headed for the stairs.

"No cavities," Jemma smiled as she wrapped her arms around her Phil's waist. "I'm going to change and start my homework."

He kissed the top of her head and watched as she too headed for the stairs then turned to Melinda who already had Skye in her arms. "I take it Fitz didn't do so well."

Melinda shook her head as Skye slid a fish cracker into her mouth. She chewed quickly and nodded. "Two cavities, the doctor filled both. Our little man is _not_ happy." She smiled as she accepted another cracker from her baby. She and her husband were well aware of Fitz's early life. Dental care was not on the top of Emilie Fitz's child rearing practice. Neither was physical care. Neither could imagine how their young son retained his advanced intelligence given the poor nutrition and medical care he received…if he received any at all. Fitz was small for his age with an immune system that failed him miserably. If there was a virus in the wind the boy would surely be down with it. The family dentist worked hard at repairing what a lifetime of neglect had done to the boy's teeth. Melinda strictly enforced brushing and flossing, especially with her younger son.

Phil looked toward the stairs debating on how to tell his wife the news he'd received earlier in the afternoon. Two cavities were nothing compared to what he had to tell. Hell a mouth full of cavities would be hard pressed to even compare to it. He watched as Melinda smiled at their youngest while sharing the little fish crackers. He mentally debated with himself. Should he spoil dinner for her, spoil the whole evening or wait until the kids were bathed and tucked in for the night? She had to know and neither of them would sleep tonight or any night until this fiasco was behind them.

He chose the latter keeping the horrifying news to himself for the remainder of the evening.

XX

"Okay, they're all down and even Fitz is finally asleep," Melinda breathed as she stepped into the kitchen and stared at the cup of tea Phil had set on the table. Something he rarely if ever did, this time of night. "You gonna tell me now?"

Phil tried not to smile. It wasn't surprising. Melinda could read him like no one else. Hell, she knew what he was thinking before he did. Right now he wished he could turn off his mind, wished he would not have to see the look in her eyes when he told her…when she felt the ice cold dagger pierce through her heart…the same one that he could still not pull from his own.

"Mel," he started, speaking softly as he took her hand in his. She pulled it back, immediately on guard, immediately expecting the worst.

"Just tell me, Phil, no sugar coating, no bush beating…just tell me." Melinda growled, her anger already rearing its head to protect her from the fear that grew in its shadow. Fear and anger, the strongest of emotions vying for control, fight or flight and in Melinda May's world the winner was always anger. Anger masked everything. Anger gave her control.

"I spoke to Hunter, today." Phil began. "Someone's come forward to contest Fitz's adoption." He said it quickly almost as if it hurt to roll off his tongue or he needed it to be out of his mouth because of the vile taste. He vaguely remembered being a kid and yanking off that band aid as fast as possible. Doing it slowly just drew out the pain.

For a moment Melinda said nothing, did nothing but stare into nothing. "Who…who, Phil? We searched, we all searched, every agency and found nothing, no one, not one living relative. Who now, after all this time….who?"

He heard the crack in her voice, but did not react. She wouldn't let him, not yet.

"The guy claims to be Fitz's father. Hunter and Bobbi are already on it." Phil added but wasn't sure if she was even listening.

"The bastard has nothing to do with him for ten years and all of a sudden crawls out from under a rock to come after him. Damn it, Phil, there wasn't even a father listed on the birth certificate. Where did this moron come from and how did he even know… Grant, that bastard Grant…"

"Melinda," Phil spoke softly, "the man is dead…"

"Oh, I'm sure he had a lot of sleazy friends. It's got to be one of them, Phil…it…" She stopped, her knuckles white in the grip she had on the back of chair. " _No one_ is taking my son, no one." Melinda spoke through her teeth.

XX

"Alistair Dunn," Hunter spit as he slammed a large file on Phil's office desk. "The bloody bastard," he snarled as he turned and stormed across the room. It had been just over three weeks since his call to Coulson.

"Bobbi?" Phil asked as he opened the file and stared at the photo clipped to readouts on top.

"Went on to be with May," he let out in a harsh breath, "picked up a rental at the airport." He shook his head as he slammed the office door closed and marched back to the desk.

Phil flipped through the thick file. "This is everything?" He looked up at the angry man in front of his desk.

Hunter slammed a hand down on the desk then jammed his finger into the file emphasizing each word. "That is all we have on the damn piece of shit. Damn it, Coulson, he's already filed a petition to nullify the adoption, says it was not legal."

Shaking his head, Phil stared at the copy of the legal papers that would start an investigation into Fitz's adoption. A chill ran through him as he read the man's rant.

"Can you believe that load of bullock? Says the lad's mother refused to let him have anything to do with him, that _she_ disappeared with the infant and _he's_ spent the last ten years searching! She disappeared…. _she_!"

Again Phil reviewed the legal mumbo jumbo that said the same thing Hunter had just put into his own vernacular. He continued reading as Hunter continued ranting.

"I'm sure he did a lot of looking in Sydney and Johannesburg, like the lad's mum had the means to go skippin' about the globe like some bloody superstar!"

Phil spread the forms in a fan and picked up travel records for the man called Dunn showing he left London for Australia late in the eighties. Fitz would have been a toddler. Before that he had addresses in Manchester, Dublin and Bristol. According to the investigation Phil and his team had done on Emilie Fitz, she and her young son had not left Busby until Jamie Grant dragged Fitz to London. Nowhere was there evidence of the young woman crossing paths with Alistair Dunn.

"He's a lot older than her," Phil noted as he flipped a page over and continued scanning the rest. "According to this he never lived in Glasgow or Busby." He looked to Hunter for more information.

"He was some sort of door to door," Hunter huffed, "hawking everything from magazines to Hoovers. Far as we could find he never set down anywhere but we tracked him to a stay in Glasgow in March of eighty-seven." Phil looked over the top of his glasses, eyebrows raised. "Do the math, boss…it's exactly nine months from March to December."

Phil took off his glasses and put the papers he held on his desk before turning to stare out the window into the distance.

"He was there a few days at the end of the month with some convention of some sort." Hunter explained then hesitated, uncomfortably giving his boss the additional information he and his partner had uncovered. "Emilie was young," he reasoned, "probably living on the street already and…"

Coulson closed his eyes against the truth he would never share with his son. Some things were never meant to be told and Fitz would never know this one. "And she sold the only thing she had to stay alive." He finished for his agent.

"There's nothing to show she was a slapper, for all we know it was just that one time. Maybe when she found out she was…" Hunter let the topic drop as Coulson turned back to him. "The bloke's had more professions than we could count. All of them seemed to be no more than some sort of con, but he's never been caught as far as we can tell, always manages to pass the blame to some flunky."

"So what does he want with Fitz…after all this time, what's his game?" Phil was thinking out loud more so than asking a question.

Hunter shook his head before realizing that fact. "The court is ordering a paternity test. What are you going to tell the lad?" Hunter dropped his chin to his chest and took a deep breath. " _How_ are you going to tell him?" He let out on the exhale.

"Let's hope we don't have to," Phil sighed as he stacked the paper on his desk into a neat pile and tucked it back into the large envelop Hunter had given him. "There is no way this son of a bitch is going to get his hands on my son. We don't stop until we find out his endgame and make sure he doesn't get within fifty feet of Fitz. With any luck the they'll do the paternity test and it will be the end of it."

"He's arriving here come Monday." Hunter reminded him.

"Then we have six days to fix this." Phil commanded.

XX

Melinda pulled the front door open and stared at the figure standing on the front porch. She shifted the drowsy toddler on her hip to the opposite side and wrapped Bobbi in half a hug as she stepped inside. Skye let out a soft moan that might have been a mumbled 'momma' and snuggled into her mother's embrace.

"Bobbi," Melinda breathed, almost relieved to see her long time friend and associate. She knew why the agent had traveled across the Atlantic and showed up unannounced at her door. She knew the news could not be good but did not have the strength or the energy to ask.

The other woman smiled and pushed a stray hair off the little girl's face. She bent close to Melinda and placed a soft kiss on the child's flushed cheek then looked to her friend with concern. The dark circles under Melinda's eyes did not go without noticing. Bobbi frowned at the obviously sick little girl in her friend's arms.

"Just a little cold," Melinda whispered. "She's so stuffy I can't lay her down. I've been walking the floor with her for about an hour hoping she'd drift off but…" She let the comment drop and looked toward the stairs.

Bobbi had known Melinda for many years. She never saw her so haggard. The constant worry over the last three weeks had taken their toll and having a sick child only made it more difficult.

"The other two fell asleep about fifteen minutes ago." Melinda remarked as she swayed a bit when Skye whimpered softly. "They've all got it," she sighed as she closed the door and started toward the kitchen motioning for Bobbi to follow. "Jemma came home sick on Monday and the other two woke up with it yesterday. I kept them all home. Jemma doesn't do well with the cough syrup and this one…" she paused and took a deep breath as she cast her eyes toward her baby. "Well, let's just say she and Fitz never do anything small. "Simple cold today, bronchitis tomorrow, pneumonia by the weekend," she shook her head as she filled the tea kettle and set it on the stove.

Bobbi slid off her jacket and draped it on the back on one of the chairs. All three of the younger kids were sick and the couple had to deal with the Fitz thing as well. How was Melinda even standing? Bobbi reached out her arms. "Let me take her for a while, Mel. You need a break. Maybe you should consider a nap yourself." She almost smiled but it looked more like a frown. Bobbie made to take the little girl from her mother but Skye's whiny protest and a few kicks of her little feet ended that.

Melinda shook her head. "She won't even let Phil or Trip take her when she gets like this."

"Okay," Bobbie nodded as she stepped back. "Then you need to get yourself into that big old recliner in the family room and let me help with the others. Geez, Mel, you're dead on your feet." She cast Melinda a knowing smile. "Get this little munchkin to sleep, we'll share a cup of tea and I'll fill you in on everything."

"Momma…" a hoarse call came from the stairs, followed by a round of croupy coughing.

Melinda let out a long breath and took a step in the direction of the call only to be stopped by Bobbi's hand on her shoulder. "Recliner, boss," she took her friend by the elbow and escorted her to the family room door then gave her a gentle push toward the comfy chair in the corner. "I'll take care of whatever it is, you get some rest."

Twenty minutes later Bobbi tucked a soft blanket around a snoozing Melinda and a finally sound asleep Skye. She'd tucked Jemma back into bed, assuring her that all was well and she was there to help with whatever needed to be done. The little girl, in true Jemma fashion, apologized repeatedly for being a burden, for being sick, for needing so much attention. Bobbi located the children's acetometophine gave it to the young patient for her headache complaint and assured her it was probably from the coughing. Jemma drifted off quickly. Bobbi pressed her lips to the girl's head and found it cool. She smiled as she pulled the blanket over the child and tiptoed into the hall.

She pushed open the door on the opposite side of that hall, hit immediately by the menthol smell in the room. Fitz seemed to be breathing with a bit of a snuffle but was sleeping soundly. She pressed a hand to his slightly warm forehead and made a mental note to keep Melinda informed. She put the little boy's foot back under the blanket and quietly exited the room.

'What a mess,' she told herself as she walked down the stairs. "Damn that Dunn throwing Melinda's world into turmoil. She hated the man with a fury she could not contain. She and Hunter had tracked him from Scotland to London to South Africa and Australia. He was a grifter, swindling people out of their life's savings and managing to remain two steps ahead of the authorities for years. He posed as a salesman but it wasn't sales he was after. She couldn't imagine why he would have been involved with young Emilie Fitz except for a one night diversion that left the troubled girl with a child she could not care for and a habit she could not support. Fitz had been damned from the beginning and saved by the love of Melinda May and Phil Coulson. There was no way she was going to let that rat bastard take this little boy and destroy his life. Who knew what kind of monster Alistair Dunn would turn their sweet and always mischievous Fitz into with his corrupt lifestyle. And why…why would someone like him, who cared about no one, want this child. The possibilities turned Bobbi's stomach and she knew Melinda's mind had visited those places as well.

She and Hunter had not found any indication that the man, in addition to his other illicit undertakings, was or had any association with pedophiles but then again both were aware of sleazy bastards that profited from selling children to the low life scum that were. She drew a deep breath through her teeth knowing she'd snap his neck if she found the slightest clue that he was one of them. There was no way he wanted anything to do with this little boy unless it profited him in some way. The answer to the problem lay in them finding out what that was.

Bobbi stopped at the family room door and looked back at her friend then moved to the kitchen. A cup of tea might not be a bad idea. A soft sound her spun her around. A bleary eyed Fitz stood in at the base of the stairs. Apparently he wasn't as sound asleep as she thought.

"Where's my mom?" He asked around a cough.

Bobbi was surprised the boy offered no greeting and seemed unfazed at her unannounced arrival. She smiled at him, but he did not return it. 'He's not feeling well,' she told herself and nodded toward the family room.

"Is she sick?" He asked as he leaned forward and peered at the form on the recliner.

"No, sweetie," Bobbi assured him. "She's just tired and your little sister has her worn out. I think."

He looked at her and she knew immediately he did not believe a word of her explanation. Fitz had been lied to most of his life. He had an almost innate radar to be able to tell when someone was giving him a half truth or flat out telling him something to mask what they did not want him to know. Even with his bloodshot blue eyes, she could tell he was glaring at her.

"Hey," Bobbi spoke softly. "You really should have something on your feet."

Fitz looked down at and lifted his bare toes up and down a few times.

"Probably a robe or something," she added. "Why don't we get you warm and then we'll both have a cup of tea. I bet your mom's got some honey that will help with that nasty cough as well."

The boy shrugged his shoulders. "Will you tell me what's going on?" He asked in his hoarse nasal voice then waited for her answer, never looking away from her gaze.

Bobbi let out a short breath. They hadn't told him. She wouldn't have either, but he knew something was not right and now looked for answers. It wasn't her place and she was glad for that. "We can talk, sure honey." She put an arm around his shoulder and walked him toward the kitchen.

Fitz shook his head. "I want my mom," he said so quietly she barely heard him. He slipped from her arm, headed into the room and toward Melinda.

Bobbi reached out to pull him back, afraid he'd wake both his mother and sister. She started to call him but stopped herself as Melinda lifted the blanket for him to crawl into her embrace. He snuggled into the space between his mother and the wide arm of the chair, content in the nook of her arm. He nuzzled into her chest as his eyes closed and he reached an arm across her. Melinda pulled the blanket around her little boy and mouthed a 'thank you' to Bobbi before once again closing her eyes.

XX

An hour later Jemma shuffled into the kitchen and dropped into her regular seat at the table. She sniffled a few times and dug a fist into one eye.

"Feeling better?" Bobbi asked as she poured a cup of tea and set it in front of the girl with a small pot of honey on the side.

Jemma smiled and nodded as she scooped out the sweet nectar and added to her cup. She stirred it slowly and watched as the liquid swirled a tiny cyclone. Bobbi topped off her own mug, picked it up and took a sip."

"How's the headache?" She asked the quiet little girl.

"It's not as severe as before. Dr. Stephens says I have rhinosinusitis. She's given me augmentin and a saline spray which is quite uncomfortable." Jemma answered in a comical nasal voice. She looked back into her cup and let out a soft sigh. "I'm so sorry I brought this home to Fitz and Skye."

Bobbi set down her cup and squatted down to Jemma's eye level. "Hey, none of that," she wrapped an arm around the girl's shoulders. "I'm sure there are kids sick all over. It's just that time of year, sweetie."

Jemma pursed her lips and nodded. It was unlike the girl to make such a statement. She knew more about viruses and contagion and medical terms than anyone in the family, probably as much if not more than her pediatrician.

Bobbi stood and kissed the girl on top of the head before sitting across from her. Jemma smiled as she looked around the kitchen.

"It was kind of you to clean up. I know momma's been busy with Skye. She's so little and she is so difficult with medicines and mentholated rub. She puts up such a battle." Jemma smiled weakly. "It was also quite nice of you to insist that momma take a nap as well as the little ones, even though they are perched on her chest." She attempted to smile again.

"Maybe you need a little more TLC yourself, huh?" Bobbi mock-pouted, thinking the child might be a bit envious of her siblings' closeness to her mother.

"Oh, no, not at all," Jemma stated calmly, as she pulled a Kleenex from her pocket and wiped her nose. She pushed the tissue back into her pocket and pulled a small bottle of sanitizer from the opposite pocket, squirted it into her hands and rubbed vigorously before snapping the cap shut and stuffing it back into her robe.

"It's okay to be sick, Jemma." Bobbi reached across the table and patted the girl's hand. "And it's okay to want your mom's attention as much as your brother and sister."

"What's really wrong with Fitz?" Jemma blurted out with a look of desperation that Bobbi had never expected.

She merely stared at the little girl for a moment before swallowing her shock. There was no way Melinda or Phil would have told their ten year old daughter the nightmare they were battling. There was no way the little girl could have found out. Phil had made it a point to have the matter discussed only at the office. Nothing was to be said in their home. Her hesitation in answering sent the child into an almost panic.

"He's more than just sick isn't he? He's got some dreadful illness?" She threw a hand over her mouth. "Is he going to…to…"

Bobbi gathered the little girl into her arms before she could finish the sentence. "No, sweetie, no, Fitz has a little bug, just like you. You know how he is. He always gets a little bit sicker than you do. You know Fitz, he never does anything small." She smiled and attempted a tiny hint of humor which Jemma ignored.

"But momma's been so protective of him. She drives us to school and picks us up. She's never done that before and when I got sick she just kept him home before he was even complaining. She wouldn't let him go on the field trip with the science club last week and when he got all cheeky and quiet belligerent, she didn't even punish him." She paused and took a breath, pulling out another tissue and wiping her eyes and nose. "He stomped and carried on something dreadful. Normally he would have gotten quite the smacking, but momma just held him and I think she was crying. She would never let him get away with anything like that unless something was _very_ wrong. And she talked to Dr. Stephens for such an awfully long time when she visited yesterday. Please, Bobbi, please tell me the truth, please." Jemma had given up trying to catch her tears and her voice had turned to little more than a raspy whisper.

"Oh sweetheart," Bobbie shushed the child and hugged her closer. "I promise you that Fitz has no terrible illness or any you need to worry about. The doctor had to talk to your momma about all _three_ of you and Dr. Stephens and I'll bet she probably scolded your mom about pushing herself too far as well. I know I did."

"But," Jemma swiped a tear from her cheek. "But, momma's been so sad and she's worried about something. I can tell by the way she's been acting. She's just…just different. Something's wrong Bobbi. I know it."

Bobbie held the little girl close and let out a long breath. Jemma would suspect. She was very in tune to others' feelings. The woman was at a loss for what to tell this little girl. "Honey, I think your mom is just tired and I think you've been sick and everything is just all blown out of proportion." She felt Jemma shake her head against her chest.

"And now you're here, Bobbi, and Hunter is too, I suspect. You never just show up unless there is something very wrong." Jemma sniffled softly. "Just like when that awful Jamie Grant tried to hurt us, but he's…"

"You mean we can't just visit?" Bobbi stopped her and tried to sound insulted. "Just missed our friends and their feisty kids and wanted to catch up with them?" Jemma actually laughed a funny weak laugh that lead to a cough. Bobbi smiled, hugged her again and kissed her temple. "I promise you, sweetie, if there is anything and I mean anything you need to know about, your mom and dad will tell all of you." Jemma tilted her head back and looked up at the woman who quickly made an 'X' over her heart. "Cross my heart!" Bobbie held up her right hand in a sincere pledge as she secretly wished her friends would never have to do so.

XX

Hours later Phil made his way through the darkened house to the room he shared with his wife. He turned on no lights and walked softly across the room knowing she was aware he had entered the room. He stepped to the side of the bed as he loosened his tie and smiled at the dark little head snuggled into her mother's embrace. Surprised not to see his son tucked into the space next to Skye, he slid the tie from his neck and tossed it over the back of the chair next to the closet. He moved to the bathroom, changed his clothing and slipped into his side of the bed without disturbing the child asleep next to her mother.

"Long day," Melinda stated.

He could see the moonlight from the large window reflecting in her eyes and smiled, unsure if she was referring to his day or her own. "Sorry…" was all he could answer.

"Don't be, I know you're doing everything you can. Bobbi made sure I got some rest today and Hunter was a big help." She spoke as she shifted and Skye let out a soft whimper. Shushing the little girl softly, Melinda motioned for him to wait before answering.

Phil smiled a crooked grin. "Yeah," he spoke with a sarcastic drawl.

"No, really," Melinda whispered as she ran her fingers through Skye's soft hair. "Maura stopped again today and _everyone_ got a shot." Phil rolled his eyes, knowing his wife could have used his help with that situation. "Hunter got here about five minutes after she did and kept Fitz pretty calm with some silly argument over soccer." She laughed silently, "had him so worked up over some game that Fitz wasn't even aware of the injection until Maura was done."

"I'm impressed." Phil nodded. "Never would have pegged him for that duty."

"Fitz was so upset afterward, I promised him he could watch a game with Hunter so he's all tucked in down in the basement." Melinda informed him. "He slept most of the day and Hunter promised to keep him in bed _and_ watch his language."

Phil laughed. "I wouldn't hold him to that." He listened for a moment to his wife's steady breathing and thought she'd fallen asleep.

"Jemma was pretty good, but got a little teary in spite of herself." Melinda spoke suddenly, startling him in the silence. "Bobbi's bunking in with her for the night. "Jemma suspects something, Phil. She opened up to Bobbi this afternoon. I think our friend managed to calm her fears but we are going to have to tell her something or she will not let this rest." She peered into her husband's eyes until he nodded in agreement.

"And _this_ one," she glanced down at the little girl cuddled next to her.

Phil shook his head, knowing the struggle Skye would have put up when finding out she was about to receive a shot. He ran his hand along her arm and leaned over to kiss her head.

"Took all three of us to hold her down, she carried on for three hours after. Had Jemma and Fitz more upset than they needed to be. Again, thank God for Bobbi and Hunter helping out with the other two."

"I'm really sorry, Mel. I should have been here with you. I…"

She reached out her hand and placed a finger over his lips. "I know you would have been if it weren't for that bastard Dunn."

"He's here, Mel." He told her quickly. There was no way to do it gently. He held his breath waiting for her response. "Mel?" He prompted when none came.

"I heard you." Her voice was hard and though he could not see her clearly in the darkness he knew her face was the same.

"He's at the District. I made sure he was alone and stayed there, put two agents on him for the duration. Mack says he has an appointment with a lawyer tomorrow and they plan to file a petition to vacate the adoption. I've spoken to Alex. She says he has to prove paternity and that he is committed to raising…" he cast a quick glance at Skye. "To raising his alleged offspring," he finished.

Melinda pulled her baby closer and squeezed the tears from her eyes. She took a deep breath. "The court will order a paternity test." She paused and he waited for her to continue. Resting her cheek on Skye's head she sighed. "It will be a cheek swab or a blood test…in either case we'll have to tell him, Phil. It's going to destroy him and his trust. We promised him, Phil." She ended in little more than a whisper.

He moved quickly to her, taking her in his arms with Skye sandwiched between them. "We're going to fight this Mel. That bastard ignored him for ten years. He's not just going to waltz back in and pull him from everything he knows…from everything he loves." He felt more than heard her sob and quickly kissed her forehead then her cheek. "We're going to fight this and we're going to win."

"Momma," a little voice mumbled, stopping their conversation flat.


	2. Nailing Nightmares - Part 2

**PART 2**

By Friday, three children were tired of being confined to being indoors and even more tired of each other. The 'twins' argued constantly over everything from the choice of breakfast cereal and which science program to view on television, to who left the mess in the bathroom and which one would be tucked in first. Skye whined incessantly, refused to eat anything and clung to Melinda like Velcro, bursting into tears if any of the other kids so much as looked at her the wrong way.

Saturday morning broke warm and sunny and to everyone's relief Melinda sent the trio outside to play, with Hunter supervising or completing the crew by creating a quartet. He was little more than a big kid himself but the Coulson's trusted him to keep the little ones out of trouble and safe while entertaining them as well.

Melinda stood at the kitchen window watching as Hunter crawled on all fours chasing a giggling Skye across the grass as Fitz pumped water into a rocket he'd created on paper during the week and had put together on the patio an hour ago. The doorbell rang unexpectedly for a Saturday and she turned to watch Phil amble down the hall and pull open the front door. She couldn't see who was there as her husband's body blocked her view but he appeared to be looking at something. A squeal of laughter took her attention back to the children and when she turned back Phil was walking toward her still staring at a letter sized piece of paper in his hand. When he looked up at her she knew it was not good.

"Phil?" She felt the teacup wobble in her hand and set it down before it crashed to the floor.

He looked up at her for a moment then back down at the form in his hand as if he could not look at her to tell her what he had. "We have to have him at the court appointed doctor's office on Monday morning for the test."

Melinda shook her head as she fell into his embrace. "This is happening." She whispered as he held her.

"It's just a test, Mel. It could turn out to be inconclusive or prove the guy is sucking wind." Phil tried reassuring her.

"We both know it could go either way." She breathed as she stood back and wiped errant tears from her cheeks. "We have to tell him, Phil." Again she sought refuge in his embrace.

Phil held her close as he watched the children outside the window. Fitz threw his head back in laughter at some stunt Hunter played. Skye giggled next to him a second before throwing her arms around her brother and hugging him tightly. Jemma stood on the deck watching but laughing as well.

"After supper," he kissed the top of his wife's head, "we'll tell him after supper."

XX

"Am I in trouble?" Fitz squirmed as he sat in a large chair in his father's office. Rarely, if ever were the children allowed in this room and then only because they were in some sort of hot water. His mother had led him there by the hand after everyone had finished dinner. Trip, who'd been banished to Gram's apartment for the week since Melinda did not need a fourth sick child, gave him a wink and a smirk as he took plates from the table.

The little boy swallowed hard. He could not recall anything he'd done that would warrant a trip to Da's private work space. Yeah, there was that talking back thing when mom said he couldn't go on the science field trip but that was almost two weeks ago. She would never wait that long to give him his comeuppance. It all worked out anyway the kids said it was a wasted trip. They weren't allowed to touch anything and some lady just droned on to them all day about what kinds of tech the company used and hoped to use in the future. They weren't even allowed to ask questions.

He on the other hand got to spend the whole day in the tech lab, all alone…well, not really alone. There was one other guy, a senior who lost his field trip privilege for some prank he pulled in chemistry class. He didn't talk a lot and Fitz didn't care. He got to tinker with every project he rarely even got to look at and he got that dumb robot they'd been working on to take six steps across the room. With a lot more tinkering he got it to pour a cup of tea! Well, it was actually water, but Fitz bet it could pour tea just as easily. He was pretty angry that day but earned a big laugh out of the other guy in the room when he programmed the robot to mimic some rather rude hand gestures.

'That must be it,' he thought as mom motioned for him to sit in that big leather chair that faced Da's desk. He was positive he deleted all those commands before he left for the day but what if that…no, the guy wasn't tech savvy, he was more into string theory and finding life on Mars than anything as tangible as gadgets and gizmos.

He'd been pretty nasty to Jemma yesterday and used some colorful language with her when she barged into his bedroom to accuse him of putting all those hexbugs™ under her bed. Of course he did, but he wasn't just going to admit it. She threw them across his room and he lost it, calling her everything he had in his arsenal before he realized his mother had the ears of a bat and was probably on her way to remind him, again, about his choice of language. But Jemma was not a tell-tale and mom hadn't said a word about it. Of course that was yesterday…and now here he was with both of them staring at him. He swallowed again.

"Whatever I did, I didn't do it," he stammered then shook his head. "I mean I didn't do what you think I did." That didn't sound much better. He looked from one parent to the other and sighed. "I'm totally innocent."

Melinda sat on the chair next to him. There was plenty of room on the large seat along side his skinny body. "No, baobei, you did nothing. Your father and I just want to talk to you."

He looked at her for a moment, narrowing his eyes and then to his father who leaned against his desk with his arms across his chest and stared at the floor. Fitz looked back to his mother who now looked at him with such apprehension it sent a shiver through him. He started to stand but Melinda stopped him, holding both his hands in hers.

"I've gone and failed the entrance test for the college prep courses this summer, haven't I. I knew I should have studied longer. I didn't need sleep. I needed to read more." He tried to pull his hands from his mother's without success. Then the boy looked quickly at Phil when he laid a hand on his shoulder.

"No, Fitz," the man said softly as he stooped to his son's level. "We need to tell you something and there's no easy way to say it."

Now the boy was scared. He squirmed back into the chair behind him and moved closer to his mother for support. His brain ran through hundreds of horrifying scenarios and stopped at one. He looked to his mother and then his father and then back. "Am I sick…sick like my maw was…do I have what she had? Am I going to get…will I…did, did I give it to Skye and J-Jemma?"

Melinda pulled him close. "No, no baobei, no you're not sick. All of you are feeling better." She assured him.

He nodded and quickly wiped a tear from one eye then sat up and looked directly at Phil. "I'm sorry about the robot, Da. I thought I wiped its memory."

Phil knit his brows for a moment and looked at Melinda who merely shrugged her shoulders. He looked back at Fitz. "Well, we'll talk about that some other time. Right now your mother and I have to tell you about a man that's come forward…" He stopped and looked to Melinda. Fitz followed his gaze and saw the look in his mother's eyes. There was no sugar coating this. There was no way to say this without having Fitz's world come crashing down around him. All they could do was help pick up the pieces and hold him together until this nightmare was over.

"What man?" Fitz's voice broke his parents' thoughts.

"A man…a man's come forward to contest our adopting you. He claims he's your biological father." Phil spoke slowly and watched as the color drained from his little boy's face.

Fitz swallowed again and shook his head, already trembling and afraid but having to ask the next questions. "Why?!" The boy squirmed sideways, facing his mother then spun back to look his father in the eye. "What does he want? Is he here? Has he come to take me away?" Each question sent the boy further into panic as his voice became shrill.

Melinda bit her lip and took a deep breath as Phil placed his hands on the boy's shoulders and continued. "He _is_ in the city Fitz. He won't come here and he can't take you anywhere. He wants the judge to say the adoption was illegal."

"NO!" The boy shouted as he bounced to his feet coming eye to eye with Phil. " _No_ , you said it was forever." He paced away from his parents, stomping across the floor and waving his arms wildly then stomped back. "The _judge_ said it was forever and ever and that no one could change it. You _promised_ …you said I was…your…you…" Fitz was breathing rapidly. He threw a hand over his mouth and looked wide eyed at his father.

Melinda got a waste basket in front of him seconds before the little boy lost his supper. He threw up until all he could do was gag and cough. Phil pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the boy's face before his mother pulled him into her lap on the large chair.

"You promised," Fitz's hoarse voice croaked. "You all promised."

Phil knelt in front of them and placed a hand on the little boy's head, brushing back his now sweaty curls. " _No one_ is taking you anywhere, Fitz. We are going to fight this. Your mom and I and Hunter and Bobbi and Mack and Elena and _you_ ," he gently poked a finger into the boy's chest, "all of us are going to make sure this man sees you are _our_ son and _that_ is forever and ever." He leaned forward and kissed the boy's temple. "I promised you then and I promise you now." Phil looked at Melinda then back to his son. "We both do."

Fitz turned into his mother's embrace and let his fear and anger loose in a torrent of tears.

XX

The DNA swab was painless, the blood draw horrific and the wait for the results even worse. The court would hear nothing until the judge had those results so the next two weeks droned on as if someone had switched the off button on time.

Fitz's nightmares returned with a vengeance, making Skye's night terrors seem tame. Melinda and Phil would race down the hall once again trying to calm their terrified child before he woke his siblings. Trip took to sleeping in the guest room or his gram's couch since he'd smacked his head twice and stubbed three toes after being scared awake by his little brother's early morning shrieks. Hunter offered to set up a cot next to the boy's bed but the only real cure was Mom.

Melinda held her trembling child, stroking his hair, rubbing his back and humming quietly until he calmed. Twice he'd wet himself in the throes of his nightmare then sobbed with embarrassment when Melinda helped him clean up and change. She assured him no one would ever know. After that he would race to the bathroom four, sometimes five times a night to prevent a reoccurrence. He also refused to drink anything after dinner. Sleeping between his parents seemed the only relief anyone got. He'd stay next to Melinda with one hand clenched on Phil throughout the night.

He never shared the content of his nightmares but his parents were sure it was of losing them both. Three of his teachers called to inquire about his health as his classroom performance had changed drastically and he'd fallen asleep on more than one occasion. By the end of the first week, Melinda had made up her mind to keep Fitz at home. He could study and do his school work there, where they'd both feel safest. A call from Dr. Stephens to the school counselor had Fitz excused for an indefinite amount of time. This only fed into Jemma's fear that her brother suffered some incurable and probably terminal disease.

The little girl became so obsessed with her imagined situation that Phil and Melinda had no choice but to share the story with both Jemma and Trip, leaving Skye out of circumstances she would not understand. This relieved Jemma's fear and fed into a new panic as she and Trip both dreaded the loss of a different but just as permanent kind. Trip wanted, needed to help and was allowed to sort through files and documents obtained by Hunter while Bobbi agreed to keep Jemma informed of any new information she received. While it did not alleviate their fears it helped keep them busy and feeling as though they could help.

On Friday of the second week Phil looked up to see a courier of the court at his office door. The young man handed him a manila envelop, had him sign a receipt, thanked him for his time and left as quietly as he had come. Phil stood staring at the stamp in the envelope's corner, the address of the lab that had done the testing. He knew what it was but could not bring himself to open it, yet he needed to know before he took it home to his wife and son. At best it would prove this Dunn character was no one and this whole mess would be over. At worst, Alistair Dunn would be Fitz's biological father and the nightmare would be worse.

Phil slid the letter opener he retrieved from his desk under the seal and opened the small package. He pulled out the top form, the only one he really needed to see. Reading past all the legal mumbo jumbo he stopped and felt the ice cold knife go through his heart. The blood test was inconclusive. With Emilie's and Fitz's blood types pretty much any man with any blood type could be the boy's father. Alistair was not ruled out. The DNA test however proved without a doubt that Alistair Dunn was the biological father of Leopold James Fitz.

Phil dropped into his chair and tried to swallow the lump in his throat.

This had only just begun.

XX

Everyone was way too quiet at dinner…well, except for Skye who felt it necessary to share every detail of her day at preschool including how many times Ryan picked his nose and the fact that Chelsea wet her pants in the playground again and Miss Pani told her she would have to stay inside if it continued. Of course most of the group understood little of what she said and the others barely seemed to be listening. This concerned Jemma. She smiled and nodded at her little sister's comments in the same manner she had seen her mother do on many occasions.

Clean up was pretty quiet as well, with Bobbi insisting on doing most of the work. Jemma watched as her parents looked at each other and made subtle glances toward Fitz but said very little. Da had come home right as they were sitting down to eat and squeezed Momma just a little too tightly and a little too long. She wasn't sure but she thought Momma wiped a tear away when they parted. Jemma made it a point to keep watch on both parents.

Trip excused himself after scraping all the plates. He had a geometry exam in the morning and needed to study…some place quiet. He gathered his backpack and followed Gram to her little apartment. Skye tore around the table demonstrating her ability to make a big circle and some kind of whirring engine noise until Momma scooted her out the door to run off her never ending energy. Da followed, encouraging Fitz to grab a soccer ball and give him another lesson in the boy's idea of football. Jemma volunteered to help Bobbi, freeing Hunter to join the soccer game.

Fitz was thrilled to have Da's attention and with a brand new ball, courtesy of Hunter, brought all the way from Manchester. He ran to grab it from his dresser as Hunter and Phil accompanied an overexcited Skye out the back door. The boy raced up the stairs and grabbed the ball, made a pit stop in the bathroom then half ran/half slid down the steps and spun around the knob at the bottom of the railing with one hand. The grand exit was a little more than the not so athletic Fitz did very often, if at all. He lost his one armed hold on the ball that bounced against the floor, hit the wall and ricocheted side to side until it hit the door of Phil's office. The door opened allowing the ball entrance. It bounced one more time hitting Phil's briefcase exactly on the button that released the clasp. The ball hit the floor, spun once then rolled to the far wall but not before the case slid off the edge of the chair and spilled its contents onto the rug.

Fitz stood in the doorway and watched until the last of his father's papers drifted to the floor in a scattered mess. He glanced down the hallway at Bobbi and Jemma dancing around the kitchen to some silly song that played on the radio then slipped into the forbidden room and quietly shut the door. His first inclination was to grab the ball and get out as fast as possible. He hurried across the room and snatched the ball ready to make a run for it. The mess on the floor stopped him. As soon as Da found it he'd know exactly who was responsible. This had Fitz written all over it.

The little boy set the ball on the nearest chair and dropped to his knees scooping papers as quickly and neatly as possible. He stacked them, tapped them evenly then turned the brief case upright and laid the pile inside. Fitz smiled at his accomplishment and reached to close the lid when he spied one last large envelope that had slid under the desk. He flattened himself on his stomach and reached under to snag it. Catching it by the bottom he pulled it out and up spilling its contents into his lap as he sat up. The boy let out a frustrated sigh and started pushing the papers back inside. When he held the last two forms he rose and knee-walked to the case to put the envelope with the rest of the paperwork. Putting the forms together he turned them upright to slide them inside when he noticed his name in large letters across the top of one form.

Fitz sat back and stared at his name for a moment, unwilling to let his gaze fall over the rest of the paper. He wasn't sure if it was because he knew it was wrong to read his father's private papers or if he just didn't want to know. Curiosity won out and the boy dropped the forms to the floor as his eyes filled with tears and his stomach threatened to toss the dinner he had just finished.

Fitz ignored both feelings rose to his feet and ran.

XX

"Fitz, where'd you go for that ball?" Phil called as he stepped into the kitchen. He looked to Bobbi and Jemma with a silent question.

"He didn't come through here." Bobbi replied as she dried a plate and set it into the cabinet. Jemma shook her head in agreement.

Phil knit his brow. The boy had been more than excited to get his prize and join the others in the backyard. Shrugging his shoulders, Phil walked through the kitchen and headed for the stairs. He couldn't imagine what could have distracted Fitz from his one and only sports passion.

The open door of his office stopped Phil half way to the stairs. He stood in the hall for a moment and glanced around the room but found nothing out of place until he spotted the blue and white soccer ball on the chair facing his desk. Phil stepped closer striking the toe of his shoe on his open brief case. He looked down at the two forms a few inches from it and the large manila envelope that lay half in/half out of the case.

Fitz knew.

XX

Phil searched his office first. He made his way through the living room, dining room and every closet and space where a small boy could squeeze himself before calmly going up the stairs and repeating the process there. Fitz was nowhere to be found and telling Melinda was going to be hell.

The shrill shriek of his youngest child brought him to the stairs. He quickly made his way to the powder room finding Melinda wrestling with the little girl who refused to allow her mother to look at the large abrasion on her knee.

"Noan tush it," Skye squealed as she held both hands over her knee and turned her back to Melinda who picked up the little girl and plopped her on the counter top. Blood ran from the girl's hand down to the tops of her socks and seeped into them.

"She fell on the driveway," Melinda shook her head as she wet a washcloth and dabbed the little streaks of blood on the Skye's shin. The little girl jumped with each touch. She looked at Phil and knew immediately there was something wrong. He could not hide it from her, but Skye needed her attention right now.

"Momma will not hurt you, Skye. You know that." Melinda assured her baby girl. "I just want to wash your boo-boo and put on a band aid."

"I non't wanna ban tade." Skye sobbed. "Noan tush it, momma."

"Hey, angel," Phil spoke calmly as he moved closer. "How 'bout we wash your hands then." He pointed at the blood on her fingers. "You don't want to be all sticky, do you?"

Skye chewed her lip for a second and shook her head.

"Okay, you let Daddy wash your hands and Momma will make you all better." He smiled at her.

The little girl slowly held up her hands and allowed Phil to twist her upper body toward the sink. He stepped between her and Melinda and held her little hands under the cold running water, gently massaging soap into her palms, and singing that silly hand washing song he'd heard a million times, while his wife quickly cleaned the wounded knee and placed a large band aid over it.

Both parents breathed a sigh of relief as Skye examined the bandage and let out a shaky sob before reaching out to her mother. Melinda looked over the child's shoulder at her husband still seeing the look of controlled panic there.

"Where's Fitz?" She asked, surmising that he had come into the house for the boy who was nowhere to be seen.

Phil shook his head. "He knows." He said softly.

"You told him?" She accused calmly, as they moved into the hall. She bounced the still sobbing Skye gently, shushing her with soft kisses and pats to her back.

Phil stopped at his office and stepped aside for her to witness the evidence. Melinda looked to him and swallowed hard. Fitz knew better than to run off. He'd felt the consequences for making that decision quite a while ago, but the boy was terrified and terror is like holding on to a tornado even in the hands of an adult. Melinda imagined her little boy tearing down the streets of Bethesda in a blind panic.

Jemma and Skye were hurried into the safe care of Gram Triplet, while everyone else scoured the house and neighborhood in search of Fitz. Trip joined the effort much to Jemma's protest, but she relented when reminded someone had to look after Skye.

Hunter and Bobbi drove along the few blocks the boy could have gotten to in the short amount of time, while Trip rode his bike to the local park and through the smaller alleys and paths between it and their home. Phil searched the large yard and brush, the tree house and gardener's shed. Melinda went through the rooms in the basement.

An hour later the group met in the kitchen. No one had found a trace of the little boy.

Melinda was lost between panic and fury. "Why wasn't your office locked?" She demanded, in effect blaming Phil for what had happened.

He stepped to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. This was no time to argue or point fingers.

"Maybe it's time to call the authorities," Hunter spoke quietly.

No one responded. No one wanted to respond or to admit that they could not find one scared little boy. The sound of Phil's phone saved all of them from saying anything.

"Coulson," he answered and turned toward the back door. "Thank you," he finished a few moments later. Phil flipped the phone closed and set it on the table. "We'll be right back." He took Melinda by the hand and led her out the back door.

They crossed the deck and patio, moving to the driveway where Phil lifted the garage door and flipped on the light as dusk left the large area dim. Melinda turned toward the sound of rustling in the back of the garage. Phil put a finger to his lips and stepped between his red Corvette and the wall heading toward the shelves in the rear. Moving slowly and quietly they stopped a few feet from the workbench that held most of Phil's tools. Melinda caught the toe of a dirty sneaker as it was pulled quickly out of sight.

Phil dropped to his knees and climbed under the shelf, sitting down next to the little boy who had pulled himself as far into the corner as he could. Melinda followed suit, settling down next to her husband.

"Kinda cozy," Phil smiled at Melinda who shook her head.

"Floor's a little cold and pretty hard, don't think I'd like it here very long," she disagreed.

"Hmm," Phil answered then looked at the little boy who tried to blink away tears. "What'd you think?"

Fitz just stared for a moment then shrugged his shoulders. "I don't like the dark," he sniffled as he rubbed a finger under his nose. His dirty hands had left smudges across both of his cheeks.

"I suppose that would be a major drawback," Phil agreed, looking to Melinda as he nodded.

"Smell's not so great," she added. "And the neighbors hear everything." She looked up with only her eyes.

"Be a shame taking up residence here, especially when you've got a great house and a nice warm bed just a stone's throw away," Phil nodded as he pointed toward the open door.

Fitz turned and climbed into his father's lap, wrapping his cold arms around Phil's neck. He sobbed for a moment before swiping his nose with the hem of his T-shirt and turning toward his mother. He slipped between his parents and let out a long breath.

"You had us pretty worried." Phil remarked as he tapped the boy's knee with one finger.

"We've been looking for you for more than an hour, Fitz. Didn't you think we would be frightened?" Melinda sighed as she wrapped an arm around him and pulled him closer.

"I'm in trouble, right?" The boy sniffed, looking up at his mother.

"Yep," she answered without pause as Phil chuckled under his breath.

"Were you going to tell me…tell me about that man being my…" Fitz looked at Phil and sniffed back a sob. "He's not…he won't ever be." He broke into tears wrapping his arms around his father again. Phil embraced the boy and leaned down to kiss his head.

"We would have told you, Fitz. We would not keep that from you. I just got those results today. I didn't even have a chance to talk your mother about them yet." He looked at Melinda as he spoke.

"What are we going to do? I won't go with him, I won't. I'll run away and hide until I'm old enough to do what I want. I will. I really will." Fitz stammered between his angry tears. "You can find me and tan me good as many times as you want, but I'll just keep running until I'm too old for him to be anything." The little boy growled.

Melinda took his chin with two fingers and turned him toward her. "No one is running away and no one is taking you away from us. Do you understand me, Fitz? No one."

Fitz squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed before letting out more sobs and falling back into Phil's embrace. Melinda rubbed his back gently.

"I think a nice hot bath might be a good idea, get you warmed up. We'll let everyone know you're safe and then you and mom and I will talk." Phil pulled himself up and out from under the shelf, helped Melinda to her feet then gathered the little boy into his arms.

Fitz wrapped his arms around his father's neck and buried his face in his neck.

XX

Melinda switched off the light in Fitz's room and stepped into the hall pulling the door closed with a soft click. She moved across the hall into Skye's room and tiptoed across the floor. Placing a kiss on the little girl's head, she picked up Salty from the floor and tucked the scrawny bunny under the covers next to her baby then kissed her again and tiptoed out of the room. After checking on Jemma, kissing and tucking her in as well, the woman slowly made her way to the kitchen where Phil and their best agents waited.

"Thank you so much for getting the girls settled." She smiled weakly at Bobbi before she sat at the table. "Fitz is finally asleep, but I'm not sure how long it will last." Melinda glanced at the clock above the stove and counted the hours until he would wake screaming from the nightmares that continued to haunt him.

Hunter tapped the side of his beer bottle with one finger and spoke to it more than the others at the table. "I wish there was a way to help the little nipper." He glanced up at three pair of eyes staring at him. "I mean more personally…more than what we're doing that he doesn't know about or…"

"We understand." Bobbie assured him.

"He's terrified. My baby is terrified and I can't make it go away." Melinda sighed, almost in tears. Bobbi reached across the table and squeezed her hand.

A light tap at the door startled everyone. Phil went to answer it, expecting to find yet another clerk with another summons but was surprised to see Mack and Elena on the front stoop. He welcomed them inside and followed both to the kitchen where Mack dropped a large file on the table.

"Hope you have a lot more of that coffee," he pointed toward Phil's cup as he shrugged off his jacket and reached for a mug.

"What've you got?" Phil wasn't wasting time.

Elena removed the thick rubber band that held the file closed and pulled out a magazine that looked like it belonged in an elementary school classroom. On the cover was a face they all recognized. Fitz stood in a white lab coat, sporting protective goggles and holding up a large test tube that appeared to be bubbling with some frothy liquid. The caption read, 'Whiz Kids and the Future of Technology'.

Melinda picked it up and smiled. "We have this framed in Fitz's room. It's from an article they did after the Science Exhibition last spring. He won first prize." She beamed with pride.

"Yeah, well it turns out Dunn's got a copy as well." Mack informed them as he carried two mugs to the table and handed one to Elena. "That magazine was published in May. Dunn showed up at the court in Glasgow mid June." He continued.

"They'll just say it was how he finally found the boy," Hunter scoffed.

"But it begs the question, what was he doing with an elementary school periodical?" Phil pondered

"Any chance he had some kind of connection with that Grant jerk?" Mack asked as he sipped his hot beverage.

"We couldn't find any. There's no evidence they ever crossed paths." Bobbi shook her head.

Phil paced the length of the kitchen, clearly losing what was left of his patience. "There's no way this guy all of a sudden feels the need to raise his son. He's got to have an angle." He slapped the rolled magazine against his palm.

For a moment the room fell silent until Elena pulled another form from the envelope. "This Dunn says he has been looking for the boy for years, but we cannot find anything to show this. He hired no detective and never once contacted the social agencies in Glasgow or Busby."

"He signed an affidavit saying he spent three months," Mack flipped through the papers he held. "Three months from March til the end of May of ninety-one searching for the boy himself. Claims he was in London, Glasgow, Busby and Edinburgh."

"There is no trace of him staying anywhere in any of those cities during that time." Elena added.

"There's also a letter from him to the court stating that he met with Emilie Fitz in February of ninety-four. He even gives the dates, February twenty-seventh and twenty-eighth. Says he offered her a substantial amount of money to let him meet his son, but she refused and then disappeared. Says the boy was with her on the second day but she took off before he could talk to him." Mack flipped the page. "He claims that is how he recognized Fitz on the cover of the magazine."

"That magazine is not something you find on a news stand. It's distributed to schools only. So we're back to how he got it in the first place." Phil reminded them.

"It is distributed internationally through science clubs and interest groups in the elementary schools." Bobbi explained. "I checked. Four schools in the London area subscribe and one in Glasgow. He could have picked it out of someone's trash for all we know." She shook her head.

"But why would he be looking in the trash in the first place?" Elena pondered.

Hunter shook his head. "There's a pub in Glasgow keeps track of stuff like this." He took the magazine from Phil and stared at the photo on the cover. "Family stuff and all," he explained. "The guy's got a wunderkind of his own." He flipped a few pages and pointed to an article on a boy a few years older than Fitz who had developed a water filtration device for an apartment complex with pumping problems. "Here…here's the lad himself. His father probably had it on display. If Dunn wandered in he could have recognized our Fitz."

"But if he'd never seen the boy how would he know?" Mack posed, still unable to fathom the connection between Dunn and the magazine.

The conversation continued with everyone bantering back and forth, questioning questions that could not be answered. Phil made sure all four agents knew they were to keep digging until all the answers were uncovered and Dunn had nothing to use against them. The man was a con artist and a gold digger and they needed to prove it. It was just before midnight when Mack shushed everyone and jutted his chin toward the hallway.

Fitz shuffled toward them, digging a finger into one eye. He said nothing but moved directly to Melinda and crawled into her lap, resting his head on her shoulder.

"Hey, buddy, what are you doing up?" Phil asked quietly as he rubbed a hand on the boy's back.

Fitz merely snuggled closer to his mother. She wrapped him in a tight hug and kissed the top of his head. "I think we've beat this up enough for one night. Mack, Elena?" She faced her friends as they stuffed all their acquired information back into the file. "You're welcome to stay but you'll have to bunk in the boys' room. Trip's been using the guest room since…" She cast a quick glance at the little boy asleep on her lap.

Phil took Fitz from his mother and turned toward the stairs. "I'll put him in our bed. He's gonna end up there anyway." Fitz drew a shaky breath and hooked his hands together behind his father's neck.

"Don't let him take me, Da." The boy mumbled groggily.

"Never, bao bao," Melinda whispered close to Fitz's ear as she stepped next to him then let out a sigh as she looked at the myriad of cups, mugs and snack leftovers strewn across the kitchen.

Bobbi followed her gaze. "You go, get the little guy to bed. We'll take care of this mess and see you in the morning. We've got a lot of work to do." She kissed Fitz's temple, (something she'd never get away with if he were fully awake) and motioned for Hunter to start helping with clean-up.


	3. Nailing Nightmares - Part 3

**PART 3**

Three days later Fitz walked between his parents holding tightly to their hands. They climbed the steep marble stairs outside the court house and stopped at the large wooden doors. Phil took a deep breath and smiled down at the little boy before pushing the doors open and stepping inside.

The benches outside the courtroom were empty. Only a few clerks and lawyers moved through the halls. Phil motioned for Melinda and their son to sit then walked the length of the hallway and peered around the corner. Apparently their lawyer, Alexandra Miles had not yet arrived.

Fitz wrapped his arms around his middle and rocked back and forth. "I think I'm about to be sick." He moaned, puffing his cheeks full of air then blowing it out and repeating it over and over.

Melinda smiled and patted his knee. "It's just nerves, baobei. You're going to be fine. All you have to do is tell the truth. Just take deep breaths and relax."

The boy shook his head and swallowed hard as his stomach clenched. "No, mom, really I'm about to be sick." He threw a hand over his mouth and looked at her in panic.

Grabbing his hand, Melinda rushed to the nearest restroom, making it just in time to get him to the first stall. "Better?" Melinda asked when Fitz stood and took a step back. He nodded once then shook his head and bent back over the bowl, sick again. After five repeats, there was nothing left to come up. Fitz breathed heavily and made his way to the sink. Melinda wiped his face with cool towels and had him cup his hands to catch water and rinse his mouth. She looked at his flushed cheeks and felt his head with her lips.

"I'm okay, mom." Fitz spoke with a shaky voice as Melinda dabbed the cool towel on his face again.

"Everything's going to be okay, Fitz. Daddy and I will be with you. You don't have to be afraid." Melinda assured him. The boy nodded, took his mother's hand and rejoined his father in the hall.

Melinda smiled as she walked toward Phil and recognized the small woman he spoke with. Sr. Mary Clair turned toward them and opened her arms. Melinda wrapped one arm around her, never letting go of Fitz with the other. The nun looked down at the little boy for a second before pulling him into a tight embrace.

There was a lot more activity in the hall now. People moved in and out of large doors, others stood in small groups speaking in hushed tones while others spoke in loud angry voices that echoed in the expansive hallway. The elevator door opened and closed at regular intervals emitting groups of people then taking others away. Fitz watched as two policeman led a handcuffed man past them and on down the hallway, disappearing around the corner. He tried to calm himself taking deep breaths and holding tightly to his mother's hand.

"Sister Mary Clair is going to stay with you, Fitz." Melinda was saying. It took Fitz a moment for it to register. He recognized the small stout woman smiling at him. She did not approach but stood near the bench they had been sitting on earlier.

"Where are you going?" He asked quickly, grabbing Melinda's hand with both of his as she lowered herself to the bench and pulled him in front of her.

"Mom and I have to go into the courtroom, Fitz." Phil explained, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. "We think it would be better if you weren't there until they need to talk to you. Sister's just going to keep you company while we talk to the judge."

"But…but," Fitz started, blinking away the tears that were already falling. "What if…what if he comes and tries to take me?"

Phil dropped to the boy's eye level. "He won't. He can't. He's going to be in the courtroom Fitz. We'll be able to see him at all times. He won't be able to take you anywhere."

"I'm sure there's a room where we can wait." Mary Clair suggested as she stepped closer and reached for the boy's hand. "That way we won't be right out here in all this comotion."

The woman spoke from experience. She had spent many hours with children in the courthouse, those waiting for adoption proceedings and those who had been neglected or abused. She knew there were rooms set up especially for those children she was sure she and Fitz could utilize one while they waited. The clerks and secretaries were familiar with the little nun.

A slender young woman approached the small group and gave a slight smile. "It's time." She said softly. Phil looked up and gave a slight nod.

"I promise, Fitz. We will be right here and you will be safe." Phil wiped a tear from the boy's cheek and pulled him into a quick hug then stood and looked to Melinda. She wrapped her son in a bear hug and kissed him twice then gently pushed him to the nun standing next to her. Unable to speak and hold back her emotion, she smiled and took Phil's hand as they walked into the courtroom with their lawyer.

XX

"Your honor, my client is under the assumption that the boy was to be in the courtroom this morning." A tall well dressed barrister with the slightest British accent remarked.

Before the judge could respond, Alex Miles stood. "If it please the court, your honor, we thought it best the child remain outside the proceedings until his testimony is needed."

The sixty-ish judge took a deep breath and pushed his glasses up on his nose. He looked from one lawyer to the other and then to the ruddy faced man at one desk and the pale faced couple at the other. Looking over a form he held in one hand he asked, "Is the boy in the courthouse?"

"Yes, your honor. He is currently in one of the rooms reserved for juvenile witnesses, in the care of Sr. Mary Clair Reagan. I believe the court is familiar with her work with youngsters in the system."

"I don't see her mentioned in this order." The judge scanned the pages he held then looked over his glasses at Alex.

"It was last minute, your honor. The child is extremely distressed and has been physically sick since arriving. His parents…"

"I AM HIS PARENT!" Alistair Dunn spoke for the first time. Rising to his feet and pounding a fist on the table in front of him.

The judge banged the gavel twice. "Counselor, control your client." He warned the barrister calmly as the man placed a hand on Dunn's shoulder and spoke quietly in his ear.

Dunn scowled at the Coulsons as he dropped back into his seat. The courtroom fell into to silence waiting for the judge to make a decision.

"An officer of the court will join the boy and his guardian until such time as he is needed. He is to remain in the courthouse." He banged the gavel and turned to the Dunn and his lawyer. "Mr. Gordon, you may proceed."

Alex sat down and waited for the other counsel to begin. Gordon cleared his throat and tapped the forms he had been holding a few times before setting them down and stepping around the table."

"My client, Alistair Dunn maintains that his son was taken from his country and placed with an American couple without his permission. He also states he was not contacted or informed that the child had been abandoned by…"

"Objection, your honor, Ms. Fitz did not abandon her son. The woman had been the victim of a violent crime that my clients were instrumental in solving. The boy was considered an orphan by Scottish Social Service Council. The documentation has been submitted to the court." Alex stood and informed the judge.

A clerk rose and handed a few documents to the bench. The judge flipped through the pages. "Sustained. Mr. Gordon?"

The man hesitated for a moment before continuing. "Regardless of how the boy was left without his mother, there was no effort made to contact his father regarding this matter."

"Objection," Alex stood again. "The service council and the firm owned and operated by Philip Coulson spent months searching for information on the child. The name of the father was not known, nor was it documented on his birth certificate or any records completed by Emilie Fitz, named as his birth mother. Ads requesting information were placed in newspapers throughout the Glasgow and London metropolitan area. Again, your honor this is part of the evidence submitted by this counsel."

For the second time the clerk handed documents to the judge who scanned them and sustained the objection. During the next two hours the argument went back and forth as Gordon put forth reasons for Dunn's contesting the adoption and Alex presented evidence to contradict them. Phil and Melinda started to feel less threatened and hoped the judge would just throw the whole thing out and send everyone home.

Gordon paused for a moment and took a drink before continuing. He smiled at Alex and the Coulsons as he picked up a form from the table and turned to the judge. "Despite all the failed searches and lack of documentation, my client has been proven beyond a doubt to be the biological father of Leopold James Fitz, which is why we are here, your honor. I believe the court has a copy of the blood test and DNA swab that was done three weeks ago. The blood test does not rule out Mr. Dunn and the DNA test speaks for itself. Alistair Dunn is the boy's father and by law, both local and international, has the right to demand his child, who was taken from him illegally, be returned immediately." He passed the form he held to the clerk who in turn gave it to the judge.

Gordon turned and offered Alex a smug smile.

Phil wrapped his arm around Melinda's shoulders and gripped her hand tightly in his own. Both waited for the judge who examined two forms he held. The courtroom remained silent.

"Your honor…" Alex began and stopped when the man held up one finger. She looked to the Coulsons and took her seat.

The judge set the papers on the bench and peered at both parties. He drew a breath and gave what might be called a glare. "I appreciate your presentation of evidence, Mr. Gordon, however simply providing the biological means to create a child does by law give one the title of parent. It does not in any way express the ability of that same person to care for that child. Procreation does not make one a parent. I believe that is why we are here and I intend to hear all of the facts before I make any decision on what essentially is the rest of this boy's life. I will certainly take this paternity test result under consideration but I assure both you and Ms Miles that it will not be the sole deciding factor in this matter." The man drew a breath and looked from side to side before continuing. "Now, I believe you have both had the opportunity to provide opening statements. This court will recess until," he looked to the large clock on the wall opposite the bench, "Two p.m. I expect both parties here as defense will provide testimony at that time." With that statement he banged the gavel and all present in the courtroom rose until the man left the bench.

Dunn and his lawyer huddled in muffled conversation, both clearly aggravated by the judge's last comments. Alex, stacked her notes and files then dropped them in a large satchel and turned to the Coulsons with no trace of a smile. Before she could speak William Gordon stepped to the end of the table and roughly cleared his throat.

"Miss Miles," he began professionally. "My client, Mr. Dunn is hoping he will be meeting his son this afternoon. Should you choose not to produce the boy, I will be filing a complaint with the court.'

Alex took a deep breath. Phil stood before Melinda had the chance to accost the young lawyer. "Mr. Gordon," Alex replied as she slid her satchel from the table and held it in front of her with both hands. "Fitz is a very sensitive, not to mention traumatized child. He does not know your client and right now is terrified that he will be taken from the only family he's had for the last eighteen months. I'm sure both you and Mr. Dunn understand if the boy is hesitant to make contact. I assure you that he is here in the courthouse and will be in the courtroom when needed. If Mr. Dunn feels the need to antagonize a small boy even further by demanding he be made to sit through testimony no child should be witness to, then by all means file your complaint." She gave a curt nod then slipped past him to join the Coulsons as they exited the courtroom.

XX

Most of the afternoon's testimony came from the people who knew Fitz or who were aware of the circumstances leading up to his coming to be a Coulson. Hunter, Bobbi, Mack and Elena took their turns on the stand regaling the horrid tale of James Grant and the nightmare he brought to Fitz and his family. Dr. Stephens testified to Fitz's health problems when he first arrived, his battles with respiratory illnesses and the surgery she suggested to alleviate the problem. She also gave her expert opinion on why at age ten, Fitz was more the size of an eight year old, citing years of malnutrition and less than satisfactory living conditions as the cause. When asked, she stated she was sure he would, with the care he now received, catch up to children in his age group.

Fitz's therapist and the school counselor both gave testimony as to the changes in Fitz in the time they treated him. Both talked about nightmares and disruption in sleep patterns that were slowly overcome in the months the boy saw both or either of them and both agreed the patience and understanding of Melinda and Phil Coulson greatly influenced the improvement. Both also agreed and were adamant in the fact that removing the boy from his present environment would be an enormous setback. Several of Fitz's teachers also appeared, testifying to the concern and involvement of the Coulson's in Fitz's school life.

All of the witnesses stood up to cross examination without wavering in their opinions and statements. Affidavits were presented from several social workers in Glasgow who had assisted in the adoption proceedings and search for Fitz's family there. Pastor Geoffrey Miller of St. Andrew's Church in Sheffield submitted a lengthy affidavit documenting his time with the Coulsons during their stay in England. Gordon posed no objection to any of them.

By four thirty the judge seemed restless. Alex feared he would adjourn for the day forcing Fitz to spend another day of anxiety confined to a small room without his parents. The little boy was allowed to leave with them for lunch and fell asleep with his head on Melinda's lap in the juvenile witness room an hour later. Sr. Mary Clair sent word into the courtroom via one of the bailiffs that the boy had once again become physically ill and vomited the little he had eaten for lunch. The judge ordered a doctor be sent to the room. Luckily, Maura Stephens was still in the courthouse at the time. Finding no medical reason for Fitz's upset tummy, she prescribed small sips of ginger ale until he could go home to his own bed with lots of mom's TLC.

"Your honor," Alex stood and addressed the court. "I realize the hour is late but I move that we heard testimony from Leopold Fitz before you adjourn for the day. The boy has been here all day and is extremely anxious. I am sure opposing counsel would agree that the sooner we hear from Leopold the better it will be."

The judge looked at the large clock and then at his wristwatch. He tapped it a few times. "Does the plaintiff agree?" He looked to Gordon and his client.

Gordon stood. "We have no objection to this motion, your honor. However, should it become too much for the boy we stipulate that he be brought to the stand again tomorrow morning."

The judge looked now to Alex who quickly agreed. He turned to the bailiff at the courtroom door and gave a curt nod. The man nodded back and exited the room. The judge banged the gavel. The clerk stood and spoke as if announcing an entrance. "The court calls Leopold James Fitz to the stand."

Melinda felt her breath catch as the large double door opened at the rear of the court and Sr. Mary Clair entered, leading Fitz by the hand. It was everything she could do not to run to him. Phil squeezed her hand so hard it hurt, but not as much as the pain in her chest. Fitz looked to his parents as he passed and walked toward the large chair on the witness stand. The nun walked him all the way until he was seated. Melinda choked back a sob at how small he looked, how vulnerable he was in that seat.

"Good afternoon, young man," the judge actually smiled at the boy as he motioned for Sr. M. Clair to return to the gallery.

"Good afternoon, sir," Fitz spoke a hair above a whisper.

Again the judge smiled. "Can you tell me your full name son?" He asked.

Fitz nodded his head, keeping his gaze directly on Phil. He refused to look to the right, at the man who would try to take him from the one he considered the only father he'd ever known. "Leopold James _Coulson_ Fitz." The boy answered, stressing the name given to him by another judge not so very long ago.

"That's quite a name for a little fellow." The judge remarked to which Fitz did not respond. "But, I understand you like to be called Fitz." The boy nodded. "Can I call you Fitz?" He nodded again. "Okay, Fitz but you have to answer with words. Do you understand that?"

"Yes, sir," Fitz answered shakily.

"Do you know the difference between the truth and a lie, son?" The judge asked calmly.

Fitz nodded again then quickly added, "Yes, sir but my Da told me not to be long winded so I will say that the truth is when you tell exactly the way things are or were and a lie is when you make things up to change how people see what really happened…" He stopped himself there, knowing he could elaborate much more. A quick wink from Phil made the boy smile slightly.

"That's good, Fitz. Do you know what happens to people who lie in this court?" The judge inquired.

Fitz looked down at his hands that lay in his lap. He interlocked his fingers then separated them and set one hand on each knee. "Lying under oath is called perjury and carries a monetary fine of five thousand dollars plus a term of not more than ten years of incarceration."

The judge raised his brows and nodded at the little boy's swift and accurate answer. He smiled again. "Well, I don't think you'll have to worry about that because I understand that you made an oath to tell the truth. Do you know what that means?"

Fitz nodded as he answered. "Yes sir, an oath means to swear a solemn promise to tell exactly the truth. But not swear like using unacceptable language." He quickly added earning a soft chuckle from the court.

The judge looked to Gordon who nodded his acceptance of Fitz's intent to tell the truth. He then looked to Alex. "Your witness, Ms Miles."

Alex put on her best smile and approached the stand slowly. "Hello, Fitz," she began. "I understand it's been a rough day for you. How are you feeling?" She ignored Gordon tapping his pen lightly on the desk behind her as she established an easy rapport with the boy.

Fitz tried to hide the blush on his cheeks and kept his head down. "I feel okay…now." He mumbled.

"That's good to know," she smiled again. "But you need to let us know if you start to feel ill again and we'll stop. Okay?"

The boy nodded then quickly looked up at the judge. "Yes, I understand." He answered rapidly.

Alex turned toward the plaintiff's table getting a quick nod from Gordon. She nodded back then faced Fitz again. "Fitz, I'd like to talk to you about your mom. Would that be okay?" The boy immediately made eye contact with Melinda. The lawyer followed the boys gaze then quickly clarified her statement. "I mean your birth mother, Fitz. Are you familiar with that term?"

Fitz nodded. "Yes, ma'am. You want to talk to me about my maw, Emilie."

"Yes, that's right." Alex nodded. "Can you tell me where you lived with your maw, Fitz?" Alex began, using the boy's term for his mother.

"We lived in Busby?"

"Always?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Do you remember your address there?"

Fitz hesitated, unsure how to answer the question, unwilling to betray his maw. "We had a lot of places." He mumbled. "We dinna stay in one place very long." He shrugged his shoulders.

"Okay, then, tell me, did your maw have a job?"

Again the boy hesitated, squirming in the oversized chair. "She was a waitress for a bit but she got sick a lot so she got sacked. She helped out in the shops for a bit, but…" He stopped knowing he'd gone too far. His mother had been caught stealing from a pharmacy and arrested. She took a bottle of cough syrup for her suffering boy. The officer was soft hearted and offered to pay for the item, then accompanied Emilie to the shelter she was staying at with Fitz just to be sure. But the owner would have none of it and again Emilie was without employment.

"But?" Alex urged. Fitz shrugged his shoulders.

"I got sick and she had to take care of me." He lyed a little, but part of it was the truth. She did steal to take care of him.

"Did your mother leave you alone when she went to work?" Alex changed the subject.

"Sometimes, but mostly she worked when I went to school." Fitz replied with just a hint of anger brewing in his voice. Melinda shook her head, letting him know it was not acceptable.

"Did she work at night?"

"No, ma'am. We were together at night. We used to look at the stars." The boy smiled at the memory as the anger lessened.

"So your mother never left you alone?"

"Once she got very sick and had to go to the hospital for a few days but I wasn't alone. I stayed with Micki." Fitz spoke just above a whisper.

"Micki?" Alex moved to the table and flipped through her notes then looked to Phil and Melinda. Both shook their heads.

"She was my maw's friend. Her flat smelled like cigarettes and cats. It was not a pleasant experience." The boy crinkled his nose as he spoke.

Alex grinned at the boy's description and attempted to gain more information before Gordon realized this was not something she expected. "Did your maw work with Micki?" The lawyer asked hoping to find a clue to this new person's identity and relationship to Emilie Fitz.

"No," Fitz almost laughed. "Micki just helped her a bit sometimes when she was sick. She could get the medicine that helped my maw feel better. But she moved off to Edinburgh. We didn't see her after that." The boy stopped himself, remembering the appearance of James Grant not long after Micki disappeared. He wondered, for the first time, if maybe Micki never moved at all.

Alex's questioning continued and established the fact that although Fitz and his mother did not by any means live an easy life, the woman did her best to care for the boy. It wasn't until James Grant entered the picture that things changed. The lawyer did her best to avoid that topic.

"Okay, Fitz," Alex smiled. "Are you okay? Do you need a break?"

Fitz shook his head. Answering the lawyer's questions was better than imagining what it would be like to do so. He just wanted it to be over although a quick look at the clock told him that would not be the case.

"Fitz, can you do me a favor?" Alex asked, causing the boy to shiver with anticipation. "It's an easy favor and you won't have to do it if you don't think you can."

The boy took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. "I'll try." He answered.

"Can you look toward the table to your right and tell me if you recognized anyone there?"

"Objection, your honor!" Gordon shouted, causing the boy to jump. "It has already been established that the boy has not met Mr. Dunn. There is no reason for this line of questioning."

"Your honor, I understand that Mr. Dunn has had no formal contact with his son. However, it is possible the boy has seen him in passing. Mr. Dunn claims to have spent time in Busby and London in his attempt to find his son. He has even claimed to have spoken to Emilie Fitz on two occasions."

The judge looked to both lawyers. "Over ruled," he spoke calmly. "Continue, Ms Miles and please hurry this along."

Alex nodded at the judge and turned back to Fitz. "Do you think you can do that?"

Fitz swallowed hard and looked to Phil who gave a very subtle thumbs up. "Yes, ma'am." The boy looked slowly to the right, eyeing the lawyer first and then making eye contact with the ruddy faced man who sat next to him. Fitz couldn't help staring at the man's tightly curled hair, despite how short it was trimmed. The boy's maw had poker straight hair and he never questioned it and never told her how much he feared any man with so much as a wave to his locks. He stared into the narrow, pale blue eyes that matched his exactly. Fitz could hear his own heart pounding in his head. He attempted to look at Melinda and tried to slow his breathing like she had taught him and his sisters to do when their fears threatened to overtake them.

Alex stepped between Fitz and Dunn, cutting off the glare that the little boy could not seem to break. "Do you recognize either gentleman, Fitz? Have you ever seen either before?"

"No ma'am." Fitz answered in a breath, still trying to slow his rapid breathing.

The lawyer turned toward the judge. "I have no more questions for this witness, your honor, but I do reserve the right to recall him should it become necessary."

Gordon stood, ready to begin his cross examination but was stopped by the banging of the gavel. Fitz jumped at the sound. "Mr. Gordon you will have to wait until tomorrow. This court is in recess until nine a.m. tomorrow morning." He banged the gavel again then turned to Fitz. "Young man you are free to join your parents." The judge banged the gavel then stood, as did the entire court, as he left the courtroom.

Fitz did not wait for Alex, he bolted from the stand, passed the table and wrapped himself around Phil before Gordon and Dunn took a step. Phil lifted the boy into his arms and Fitz clung for life. Melinda placed a hand on his back and kissed his cheek.

"I want to go home, Momma." He whispered, not caring that his father heard him use Skye's baby term for their mother.

"One stop, little man," Phil assured him as he eyed Alistair Dunn then moved out of the courtroom with his wife and son.

XX

Melinda pulled a light blanket over Fitz who'd fallen asleep on the small leather couch in her office. She kissed him softly then walked through the door that joined her office to her husband's. Phil stood sans his jacket with sleeves rolled to his elbows and his tie hanging loose around his neck. He stopped mid sentence as she entered.

"He's asleep, so let's keep it down." Melinda spoke softly as she stepped next to her husband.

Phil nodded before continuing. "Hunter put everyone you've got in London on finding anything on this Micki. Fitz has never mentioned her before. We'll see what he might remember tomorrow. He's done with questions for today."

Hunter shook his head. "We're gonna need more than just Micki."

"I'm sorry Hunter that's all we've got so shake your ass and get on it!" Phil spoke with tempered anger, as his voice rose.

Hunter held up a hand and smiled. "I didn't say we couldn't do it." He gave a nervous laugh. He reached for his phone then stopped and smacked his lips once. "You do realize it is only two a.m. in London." He stated.

Phil moved close and poked a finger into the man's shoulder. "Then wake someone up!" He over stressed each word.

"Phil," Melinda spoke softly as she laid a hand on his shoulder. He turned to her hoping to mask the feeling of helplessness about to overtake him. She looked to Hunter who merely nodded and stepped back.

"I'll get right on this, boss. We won't let you down." The man calmly assured Phil as he looked to Bobbi who nodded as well.

"They're doing the best they can, Phil." Melinda sighed as she rubbed a hand up and down her husband's arm.

He was frustrated and she knew it. They had both hoped this whole thing would be over quickly, but today's slow moving testimony seemed a harbinger of the trails yet to come. This whole Micki thing could just be a waste of everyone's time and did they want to waste that time. So far the judge seemed a bit hostile toward a man that waited ten years to try to find his son even though Dunn claimed to have been looking the whole time.

"We've got something," Mack exclaimed as he burst through the door with Elena a few steps behind.

"Shhh," all four occupants admonished.

"We found something," the large man almost whispered as he looked around wondering why the odd greeting. Hunter jerked a thumb toward Melinda's office then closed his eyes and laid his head on his prayer-folded hands. Mack nodded his understanding.

"Dunn says he tried to make a deal with Emilie on February twenty seventh and twenty eighth in nineteen ninety four." Elena dropped a stack of paper on Phil's desk with a smile.

Mack tapped his finger on the stack. "These records show Dunn was in Australia from January through April of that same year. In fact on those two dates he was sleeping it off in the custody of the local constabulary after taking part in some pub brawl that they're pretty sure he started."

Phil stared at the man for a moment before picking up the forms and scanning the information himself. A wary smile grew across his face as he turned toward the group still holding the forms. It wasn't much, but it was a sliver of hope.

"Mom?" Fitz shuffled into the room, ignoring everyone but his mother.

"Baobei, I thought you were sleeping." Melinda crooned as she wrapped an arm around him.

"Your sofa smells odd, like a nasty cleaning solution." He yawned and rubbed one eye.

Hunter let out a snort as Bobbi stifled a snicker.

"I'm sorry, bao bao. Maybe we should get you home to your own bed. It's been a long day." Melinda smiled as she pulled him into a hug. Phil nodded as he reached for his jacket.

"I think we all need some rest. We'll pick this up in the morning." He nodded to his team and followed his wife and son to her office.


	4. Nailing Nightmares - Part 4

**PART 4**

"Good morning, Leopold." William Gordon greeted the young boy who had already been reminded he was still to tell the truth.

The morning had gone a bit smoother than yesterday, although Fitz refused any breakfast at all. He still took small sips of the ginger ale his pediatrician had suggested. Phil and Melinda decided not to force him and allow this small consideration due to circumstances. The family arrived at the courthouse a few minutes later than they had day before and were ushered immediately into the courtroom. Not having to spend that time anxiously waiting in the hallway helped calm the small boy.

"Good morning," Fitz answered the lawyer. "I don't like to be called Leopold." He informed Gordon.

The lawyer smiled and turned back to Dunn. "That is your name, isn't it?" He asked the boy.

"It is, but no one's ever called me that, except teachers." Fitz explained.

Gordon smiled a wide smile at his client and turned toward the boy. "Did you know your grandfather's name was Leopold?"

Fitz shook his head. "No sir, I dinna know my granddad."

"Perhaps you were named for him?" Gordon prodded.

Again Fitz shook his head. "No sir, I don't reckon I was and no one calls me that, not even my teachers."

"How about just Leo then?" Gordon suggested.

"I'm called Fitz." He answered.

"That wouldn't be your name at all, son. I believe you'd be Leopold Dunn. Children are generally given their father's surname." Gordon informed the boy.

Fitz squirmed in his seat and shook his head as he narrowed his eyes at this man he suddenly did not like. "No sir, Fitz was my maw's name and she gave it to me. It is my name. My Da's name is Coulson. I have his name too." The boy's stubborn streak was beginning to rear its head.

"Very well, Fitz." Gordon relinquished for sake of argument. "Tell me what if anything your mother told your about your father." Gordon asked the boy. His tone remained serious.

"My maw never talked about him." Fitz answered honestly.

"Did you ask?" Gordon continued.

"No sir," Fitz replied.

"You never once asked about your father? Never wanted to know anything about him or…"

"Objection, your honor," Alex stood. "The question has been answered."

"Sustained," the judge agreed. "Move on, Mr. Gordon."

Gordon moved to the table where Dunn sat, turned and tapped the corner of the same with one finger. "How many men did your mother see, Fitz? Did she have a lot of man friends?"

"Objection," Alex snarled. "The witness is only ten years old and was only eight when he lost his mother. This is not a subject to be discussed with a child."

"Your honor, the boy would have been the only witness to the company his mother kept." Gordon countered.

"He has already testified that he and his mother were always together during the night." Alex reminded him.

"And we all know that inter…" he looked at the boy who sat wide eyed watching the argument. "Interactions such as these can occur in daylight as well as the evening." Gordon softened his comment for the child's sake.

The judge considered both sides as the lawyers stood and waited for his decision. "Over ruled," he remarked then turned toward Fitz. "You may answer the question, young man."

Fitz blinked a few times and considered what was being asked. He cleared his throat twice. "She had friends that were men now and again." Fitz spoke quietly.

"Did these men live with you?" Gordon went on.

"No, sir" Fitz answered quickly.

"Did you live with them?" The lawyer tried another approach.

"No, sir" Fitz repeated.

"Objection, your honor," Alex stood again. "Emilie Fitz is not on trial here. How she lived her life has no bearing on Mr. Dunn's claims."

"I am attempting to show the woman's lifestyle and how it led to her keeping the boy a secret from his natural father, your honor." Gordon explained.

"She never made me a secret!" Fitz shouted as he stood pounding his small fist on the rail that bordered the large chair in which he sat. "She did not keep company with the likes of him," he nodded toward Dunn, "or anyone like him!"

The judge banged the gavel several times as Melinda and Phil jumped to their feet and Alex approached the stand. "Order!" The man shouted over the rabble. "Young man, you will control yourself and limit your responses to answering counsel's questions only." He admonished Fitz as the courtroom quieted.

"He's implying my maw was a bad person!" Fitz shouted as he pointed toward Gordon but refused to be seated. "My maw was sick and I took care of her. The only man we ever shared a flat with was that damn bloody Jamie Grant and I'm glad he's dead. I hope he burns in Hell for what he did to my maw!"

The judge banged the gavel again. "Ms. Miles control your client or I will clear this courtroom." He banged the gavel again. "We will take a fifteen minute break to see if we can calm everyone." Again the gavel slammed against the bench a moment before the judge rose and exited.

Fitz glared at Gordon breathing heavy through puffed cheeks. Alex moved to the stand and offered the boy a glass of water which he pushed away. "I don't want to talk to him anymore." Fitz snarled.

"Okay, Fitz, how about we take a little walk and take a few breaths." Alex suggested.

The boy looked to his mother noticing for the first time her look of disapproval. He grasped the rail tightly with both hands, swallowed hard and took a deep breath. "Can my mom come too?" He asked trying to quell his anger, speaking to Alex but looking directly at Melinda.

Alex looked over her shoulder then back to the boy. "No, Fitz, she can't. The court would not approve that. She might influence what you say." She kept her voice even.

"I don't want to walk." He let out a long breath. 'I'll just sit here then. I will be calm, but I still don't want to talk to him." He dropped back into the chair and moved only his eyes toward the other lawyer. Alex offered the water again. He took the glass and gulped the water twice then took a deep breath and sipped it slowly. Setting the glass on the rail he chewed his lip for a moment then asked quietly without raising his head. "Am I in trouble? I am fairly sure the judge is cross with me." He looked up once then back down. "I know my mom is." He last comment was made barely above a whisper.

"No, no Fitz. Everyone gets upset sometimes especially in times like this, even adults, but we take a break and start again." Alex smiled. "Mr. Gordon is trying very hard to get you to remember how things were with your maw."

"I remember everything." Fitz sighed, wishing that he did not.

Alex patted his hand in an attempt to offer comfort. "I know that, Fitz, but he is trying to get you to remember things the way he wants the judge to hear them."

Fitz looked toward the other lawyer who was bent close to Dunn in some hushed conversation. "Isn't that the same as lying?" The little boy asked. "Does he _want_ me to lie?"

Alex shook her head. "No Fitz, he wants you to tell the truth. We all do."

"I am telling the truth. Why does he keep asking me the same damn things over and over? Does he think I'm lying? I don't know how to say what he wants me to say." Fitz shook his head and blew out a long breath trying to understand the workings of jurisprudence.

"I know it's hard for you, but it's almost over. You need to take a few breaths and calm down, let me do the yelling. Okay?" Alex smiled, bending down to look into the boy's eyes.

The boy peaked around her and took another deep breath. "My mom is upset. Would you please tell her I'm sorry." He mumbled without looking Alex in the eye.

The lawyer nodded. "I will make sure she knows, Fitz." She handed him the glass of water again which he sipped slowly.

After the short break, the judge returned. He directed Gordon to continue and warned everyone that another outburst could mean penalties for both sides.

"Feeling better?" Gordon asked as he approached the boy on the stand.

"Yes," Fitz answered calmly.

"I'm sorry my questions upset you." Gordon stated just as calmly.

Fitz eyed him carefully before answering. "I don't believe you." He looked up to see his mom narrow her eyes and shake her head the sat back in the chair and took a deep breath. "I think you meant to make me angry, but I will be more careful. I will try not to be upset with your questions."

"Well then, how about we talk about something else?" The man stifled a laugh. When Fitz did not respond he continued. "Tell how you met Phillip Coulson."

Fitz looked at the man for a moment. "I met him on the street in London."

"How did you meet?" He prodded.

Fitz let out a slow breath and told the story of how he had tried to pick Phil's pocket and got caught. How Phil took him in and tried to find his mother. He left out no details in his short story.

"So Phillip Coulson took you from London without your mother's permission?" Gordon implied.

"I wouldn't tell him who she was. I wouldn't tell him anything" Fitz shrugged. "He could have just had me locked up or tossed me off to the social service, but he fed me and gave me a place to sleep."

"Werent you afraid when this stranger whisked you off without warning?" Gordon accused.

Fitz thought for a moment before replying. He shook his head. "I was a bit leery of the whole thing, but I was more afraid of Jamie Grant and what he might do to me."

"Did Mr. Coulson threaten you?"

"No, sir."

"Did he hurt you or force you to do anything you didn't want to do?"

Fitz paused for a very long time scrunching his face in concentration.

"Do you need me to repeat the question?" Gordon asked as he turned toward the Coulsons and smiled swarmy smile.

The boy squirmed a little but remained silent until the judge leaned toward him. "You must answer the question, son." He spoke quietly.

Gordon turned back toward the stand, allowing Fitz to look his father in the eye. Phil smiled and Fitz took a deep breath and dropped his gaze to the floor. Gordon smiled again, confident he had found something he could use against this seemingly perfect family.

"He made me take a bath and I had to wear Jemma's clothes because he tossed all of mine in the trash bin." Fitz could feel the heat on his cheeks and refused to raise his head. His words were mumbled into his chest.

"I'm sorry Fitz, but we can't hear you when you don't speak up." Gordon warned.

"I said he threw my clothes in the trash bin and made me take a bath. I had to wear Jemma's clothes while they went to the shops to get me more." Fitz explained. "My da said I smelled quiet rancid, but Grant wasn't much for personal hygiene."

Gordon let out a frustrated sigh. "How long did Mr. Coulson force you to stay in Sheffield?"

"He didna force me to do anything," Fitz started to yell but lowered his voice and continued. "After a bit, I wanted to stay with them. They were good to me…even Jemma." He added with another blush.

"Did he make any attempt to contact your parents?" Gordon asked again.

"Objection, the boy has already told counsel he did not give the Coulsons any information."

"Sustained" the judge replied.

"Let me asked then Fitz, did there come a time that you told the Coulsons about your parents?"

Fitz frowned again. "I told them about my maw and about that bastard Grant. They were tried to find my maw after I told them everything that happened."

Gordon continued to question the boy on how Phil came to get the information and how long it took for the man to find Emilie. Fitz gave as much information as he could as Phil and Melinda protected him from most of the ugly details during the investigation. Gordon moved on asking the boy question after question about his home life and the tragedy that was James Grant. Melinda held her breath as her little boy answered questions about the man that nearly took his life.

"And your parents had no idea what you were planning?" Gordon asked as Fitz described his jaunt into the city on his own.

"No sir, I gave them no reason to suspect what I was about to do. That was part of the plan." Fitz replied with a shake of his head.

"And what if anything did your parents do afterward?" Gordon urged the boy to continue.

"We were all punished for doing something so very stupid." Fitz mumbled.

"Obj…" Alex began but was cut off by Gordon.

"Your honor, I am merely trying to show that the Coulsons are quick to use physical punishment…"

"Doctors, counselors and teachers have all testified that the Coulson children are not abused in any way." Alex retaliated.

"I am more than satisfied with that testimony, Mr. Gordon. This young man has been on the stand for almost two hours. I suggest you finish your cross examination and move on. We have all read the documents in the case of James Grant and are familiar with the facts. There is no need to have this child continue. I myself am more than satisfied with Fitz's testimony so unless you have something that will shed even more light on this case, please conclude." He banged his gavel. "Objection, sustained."

Gordon looked as if he was about to growl, but instead stormed back to the table and scanned a few documents on it. He looked up at Fitz stating he had no more questions and the witness was excused.

"Redirect, Ms Miles?" The judge asked Alex.

Alex approached the stand and smiled at the little boy. "Just a few more questions, Fitz." At the boy's nod, she continued. "I noticed you used a few…let's call them 'not so acceptable' terms during your testimony." Fitz chewed his lip and hung his head. "Are you afraid you will be punished?"

Fitz sighed and shook his head. "No, ma'am, I'm afraid I've disappointed my parents."

"Are you afraid of your parents, Fitz?" Alex asked.

"No, ma'am," Fitz shook his head rapidly. "I'm afraid of being taken from them."

Alex nodded. "Thank you, Fitz." She turned to judge and concluded, "I have no more questions for this witness, your honor."

Fitz sat for a moment, waiting for someone to give him permission to leave. He looked to the judge. "You may step down, son." The older man smiled.

"Can I go to my mom?" Fitz asked quietly as he stood. At the judge's nod he moved around the railing that stood between him and the court then rushed to Phil and Melinda wrapping his arms around his mother and squirming to sit between his parents.

"Your honor, at this time we would like to request the court order the Coulsons to allow Alistair Dunn visitation with his son. It is clearly apparent that they are influencing the boy's opinion and judgment of a man he has spent no time with and has not had the opportunity to get to know. In that same sense, your honor, if this cannot be granted I move that the boy be placed in the care of social services until such time as a decision is made by this court." Gordon demanded.

"Your honor, we have no objection to Fitz having a _supervised_ visit with Mr. Dunn however to remove him from his home and away from his parents and siblings would be detrimental to his emotional and more than likely physical state. The boy has been having stomach issues since yesterday and should not be with strangers should he become ill." Alex defended.

"Mr. Dunn has just as much access to medical care as do the Coulsons. If the boy becomes ill he can contact a physician or seek care at an emergency room." Gordon argued.

The judge held up a hand, clearly frustrated with the entire argument. He spoke quietly and calmly. "I do not believe this is an issue that can be decided without careful deliberation. Therefore this court will recess for the next two hours. During that time I will consider the arguments of both sides and deliver my decision when we reconvene. Until that time the child will remain in the custody of his legal parents." Gordon opened his mouth to object but with a bang of the gavel the judge had spoken. He rose and exited.

Dunn rose as the door to the judge's chamber's closed. He pointed at the Coulsons, speaking out for the first time. "You will not keep my son from me. He is my blood and I will not stop until he is at my side." The man's tone was harsh and threatening. Gordon moved to stand before him, silently attempted to calm the man. He shoved the lawyer aside as Melinda wrapped an arm around the trembling boy next to her and Phil stood to shield them both. Alex moved to do the same.

"You have no right to my boy, no right. You cannot keep him from me. No one can take away my God-given right. I fathered that child and that bitch kept him from me, you'll not do the same!" He continued as Gordon forced him backward, still trying to silence his tirade. Fitz turned into Melinda, squeezing her tightly. Two court officers summoned by the bailiff entered the courtroom and physically removed Dunn, with his lawyer close behind. The man's tirade continued until the doors closed behind him and even then he could be heard ranting in the hallway.

Gordon stopped in front of Phil. "I apologize for my client's outburst. He has been under undue stress being kept from his son for so long." He offered a sideways regret.

"This does not bode well for your client, Gordon. Don't think the court won't be aware of this outburst and how it has affected young Fitz." Alex shot back before Phil could speak. She had stepped between them clearly cutting off her own client's need to retaliate.

Gordon let out a hot breath through flared nostrils and followed his client into the hallway. Alex turned to Melinda sliding into the seat next to her and laying a hand on Fitz's shoulder. The boy jumped and pulled closer to his mother. She pulled her hand back and apologized to Melinda with just a look.

"We'll take the side exit." She whispered as she stood.

Phil nodded and waited for his wife to stand with their son still wrapped tightly around her.

XX

Rather than taking their son out of the building the Coulson's joined Alex in what seemed to be an employee or perhaps lawyer's lounge. They ordered a quick lunch that was delivered by a local deli, a lunch that no one really ate least of all the little boy who was now on the verge of hysteria.

"You promised, Da, you promised you wouldn't let him take me." Fitz sobbed from the chair where he sat digging his fingers into his father's jacket sleeves. Phil squatted at eye level in front of him.

"I will do everything in my power to keep that from happening, Fitz." Phil tried to explain. "But, we have to follow the judge's orders. He makes the rules."

"Why?" The boy demanded, wiping his nose quickly with the back of his hand. "He doesn't know us. He can't just tell you you aren't my Da!" The boy squeaked. "I don't care if he makes the rules. I won't obey them. I won't." He balled his small hands into fists and pounded them on his own knees.

Phil placed his hand around both and squeezed gently. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that." He looked up at Alex who could not offer anything positive.

"Maybe we should send him home." Melinda suggested as she sat and pulled the boy into her lap, trying desperately to console him. "I'm sure Mack or Hunter will come for him, Phil."

Before Phil could agree, Alex shook her head. "We can't do that, Melinda. It would be considered keeping Fitz from complying with any order. The judge would send court officers for him which would only make things worse."

"What is wrong with these people?" Melinda spoke through her teeth, trying to hold on to the edge of her temper. "Can't they see what this is doing to him?"

Alex let out a long breath. "Unfortunately, we are dealing with the law and not with how anyone feels. If the judge finds for Dunn we can only hope that he insists on a court supervised visit. I will motion to have Sr. Clair be Fitz's advocate and be present during any court appointed visitations."

"And worse case scenario?" Phil asked quietly, staring into Melinda's eyes as she held their son who sobbed quietly.

The lawyer shook her head. "He could order Fitz into foster care until the case is decided."

Phil felt his stomach clench. He excused himself quickly and sought out the nearest rest room.


	5. Nailing Nightmares - Part 5

**PART 5**

At exactly two p.m., Alex and Phil entered the courtroom under the scrutiny of Dunn and his lawyer. Neither party spoke but rose as the judge entered the court and called everyone to order. As Alex expected Gordon spoke first.

"Your honor, we demand to know why Leopold Fitz has not returned to the courtroom." He glared at Alex as he waited for the judge's response.

"Ms. Miles?" The judge asked for an explanation using only her name.

"Your honor, the boy was hysterical for the better part of the recess. His mother chose to contact his pediatrician who administered a mild sedative. As Leopold has fallen asleep in the west hall lounge we felt it was not beneficial to wake him at this time. Melinda Coulson is with the boy along with an officer of the court. A second officer is standing outside the door."

"I object your honor and demand counsel be charged with attempting to circumvent your decision by having the boy drugged and thereby unable to be present in the court." Gordon growled as he placed a hand on Dunn's shoulder, hoping to keep him from adding to the chaos.

"We could not have tried to keep the boy from following any order, as your honor has not yet given his decision." Alex spoke calmly, directly to the judge ignoring her opponent's ire.

The judge removed his glasses, closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He let out a short breath and replaced the glasses. "I see no reason to wake the boy or to drag him into a situation that will only exaggerate his already fragile emotional state." He looked at Dunn over the top of those glasses, "a state that your tantrum did nothing to alleviate." The judge sat back and pushed his glasses up with one finger on the nose piece. "If that rant is any indication of your attempt at parenting, I assure you it will be a major consideration in this decision. Counselor, I would suggest you insist your client control his temper for the rest of this proceeding." The judge warned, then waited for both lawyers to be seated. "I am more than tempted to adjourn for the day giving everyone the opportunity to gain control of their emotions. My own emotional state is more than aggravated by this argument with the well being of a child at stake and I assure you one more outburst will result in just that, so tread lightly."

"If it please the court, your honor," Gordon began hesitantly. "Is there a decision on our previous motion."

"I have not yet come to a decision." The judge barked. "I will see young Master Fitz in my chambers first thing in the morning. You will have my decision after I speak with him. Until then…Ms. Miles," he turned to Alex. "Call your next witness."

With a bang of the gavel, the hearing proceeded.

Alex looked at her witness list. It would not be wise to ask to change it at this point. She had no choice. "We call Melinda May Coulson, to the stand."

The judge glanced up at the lawyer then spoke to the bailiff. He let out a frustrated breath. "Ms. Miles, did you or did you not just tell this court that Mrs. Coulson was with her son in the west lounge? And are you now telling the same court that this witness is unavailable? I assure you Ms. Miles I have no patience for this nonsense." He glared at her over the bench as Gordon anxiously awaited her attempt to explain.

"Your honor, as previously stated, this is an unexpected situation. Mrs. Coulson is available and can be summoned to the court, however I do not believe it would be wise to leave the child without at least one parent should he awaken."

The judge removed his spectacles and drummed his fingers on the bench for a moment before ordering. "Please have a court officer escort Mr. Coulson to the lawyer's lounge and then do the same to escort Mrs. Coulson to the stand."

The bailiff gave a curt nod and walked to the courtroom doors, opened them and stepped outside for a moment before returning to his seat in the front of the court. An officer appeared in seconds and led Phil from the room, returning with Melinda a few minutes later. The courtroom remained silent in the interim.

Melinda took the stand and swore to tell the truth. Alex questioned her about meeting Fitz for the first time and again had the story of the Coulsons bringing the boy to the States and adopting him as their own. She gave complete disclosure on her occupation and what led to the death of James Grant. By the time Alex told the judge she had no more questions for her witness she was sure there was nothing left for Gordon to discover.

The opposing counsel approached the stand and smiled at Melinda. She did not return the smile. He walked back to the table where Dunn sat and picked up a piece of paper glanced at it and set it down. Melinda let out a frustrated breath. If the guy was trying to put her on guard with this ridiculous act he was doing a piss poor job.

"Mrs. Coulson," he spoke in a loud tone, breaking the silence. Melinda remained at ease. "Do you know a young man called Martin La Carre?"

"No, I do not." Melinda replied without emotion.

Gordon presented her with a large photo. She recognized the school uniform. He took the photo from her and handed to the judge who scanned and then passed it to the bailiff.

"Mr. La Carre is a student at the school Leopold attends." He turned then spun back, sarcastically adding, "I'm sorry, _Fitz_ …Fitz attends."

"I have never met the boy and to the best of my knowledge Fitz has never mentioned him." Melinda responded without taking the lawyer's bait.

Gordon pursed his lips and nodded then turned and took a few steps away from the stand before turning back. "Do you recall a few weeks ago when you denied _Fitz_ the opportunity to accompany a group on a science field trip?" Again he stressed the boy's name. The lawyer hoped she would jump on the fact that he accused her of denying the boy something he enjoyed. He fully intended to pursue her reasoning.

"I do." She answered simply and waited for him to continue. Melinda smiled at the look on the man's face as his attempt to irk her had failed.

Gordon walked to his table and slid the forms there back and forth with one finger, then turned and walked slowly back to the stand. "Are you aware Fitz spent the day in the technology lab with Mr. La Carre and a teacher's aid?" He smirked as he asked.

"Yes," she answered remaining just as calm as she had been. "The school informed me where Fitz would be and who would be with him."

"Do you know what went on that day?" Gordon went on, still attempting to accuse her with his questions. "And you agree the boy was unsupervised for a whole day?"

"I don't believe it was a whole day." Melinda replied. "More like a few hours." She leaned forward and continued. "My son was not unsupervised, Mr. Gordon. I believe you just said he was with a teacher's aid."

Gordon glared at the woman. "Do you know what _your_ _son_ did during those few hours?"

"Fitz told us he spent the time working on projects in the tech lab, including a robot he'd been helping with. He told us he had some success with it and later told us he had it perform some rather rude hand gestures, which he deleted by day's end." Melinda smiled remembering how the boy's guilt had gotten to him, forcing an unsolicited confession.

"Can you tell the court how a young boy would know such gestures?" Gordon raised his brows as he asked.

Melinda let out a small laugh. "He's a boy, Mr. Gordon. He's ten years old and extremely intelligent. He goes to school every day, granted he spends the day with other genius level children but I am sure they know just as many gestures and words as every other ten year old these days."

"So, you are saying that Fitz never hears or sees these same gestures at home." Gordon glared at the woman.

"My husband and I are not angels, Mr. Gordon. We've both been know to use more then our share of 'off color' language but certainly not in front of our children." Melinda sighed as if she were tired of the man's pestering.

"I see." The lawyer nodded, standing directly in front of Melinda and tapping one finger on the rail of the stand. "Would it surprise you to know that Mr. La Carre is prepared to testify that Fitz told him he would be _severely_ punished for doing just that." Gordon stated quickly.

"Objections, here say, your honor." Alex rose to her feet.

"Is there a question, Mr. Gordon?" The judge inquired.

"Your honor, I intend to show the Coulson's own parenting choices can be what some may consider to be harsh and demanding."

The judge thought for a moment. "I'll allow it. Over ruled."

Gordon turned back to Melinda moving very close to the railing that bordered the stand. "Was Fitz severely punished for his experimentation with the tech lab robot?"

Melinda shook her head but maintained her composure. "Absolutely not."

"Are you saying you did not punish him for something he'd been warned about on several occasions?" Gordon prodded.

"That is exactly what I am saying." Melinda replied.

"Nothing, you did nothing?" The lawyer continued to ask.

"Your honor, witness has answered the question," Alex objected.

"Move on, Mr. Gordon." The judge warned.

For a few moments Gordon tapped his finger on the rail then let out a fluttery breath. "Do you punish your children, Mrs. Coulson?" He asked without picking up his head.

"If the situation warrants it," she replied.

"And what does that punishment entail?" He grinned as he looked into her eyes.

"It depends on the situation." She answered in the same tone staring right back at him until he was forced to look away.

"Grounding them?" He asked turning his back to her.

"Occasionally," she replied.

He nodded as he looked to the floor and took a few steps away from the stand. "Lectures?"

"When it helps," Melinda sighed as she crossed her legs at the knee and folded her hands on top.

"Take away privileges?" He breathed, still facing away from her.

"Of course," she breathed as well.

"Do you beat your children occasionally?" He turned to her and continued before she could answer. "When it helps?" He stepped toward her with each word stopping directly in front of her. "As par for the course?" He asked the last question quietly with a sly smile.

"Objection! Your honor!" Alex sprang to her feet. "Counsel is implying Mrs. Coulson abuses her children."

"I am merely looking for answers, trying to show that perhaps the Coulsons are not such perfect parents." Gordon spoke at the same time making it difficult for the judge to hear either lawyer clearly.

"Your honor?" Melinda interrupted. "I would like to answer Mr. Gordon if I may."

The judge looked to Alex, giving her speak space. "I withdraw my objection and reserve the right to redirect."

"So noted," he agreed then turned back to Melinda. "Mrs. Coulson you may continue."

Melinda nodded then narrowed her eyes at Gordon. "I have never, _ever_ beaten _any_ of my children. However, I have spanked them when the situation warranted. I assure you and the court that it is not something I do without a lot of soul searching and discussion with their father before hand. It breaks my heart but there are times when a few swats on the backside keep them from doing something that may put them in serious jeopardy. I would rather see any of my children cry because their bottom smarts than cry myself because they are hurt or worse. _And_ I always make sure they know exactly why they are being punished and that I love them no matter what. I never leave them to cry alone or to wallow in guilt or resentment over what they've done. I assure you Mr. Gordon that my children are not afraid of me or their father."

Gordon stood for a moment gathering his thoughts, then turned to the judge. "No more questions your honor."

The judge dismissed Melinda as Phil and a bleary eyed Fitz entered the room. Phil was called to the stand while the little boy dozed off and on against his mother's side. Phil's testimony was similar to Melinda's with the only exceptions being the things he experienced with Fitz in London while she was in Sheffield with Jemma.

Gordon questioned his methods for trying to contact any of Fitz's blood relatives and received all documentation of Coulson's agency's attempts to find anyone related to Fitz. There were several signed affidavits from the social agency in Glasgow, a copy of the boy's birth certificate and a letter from the Intercountry Adoption - Bureau of Consular Affairs - Department of State noting that all regulations and standards had been met in the adoption process and were verified and acknowledged by the U.S. State Department as well as it's reciprocal agency in Great Britain. Each agency also noted their individual attempt to contact family of the boy that included a search for his biological father which proved almost impossible as no one had the man's name.

The lawyer could not shake any of the evidence and moved on to trying again to incite anger in the witness.

"Mr. Coulson am I right in saying you kidnapped this young boy off the streets of London?" Gordon glared.

Phil sat back in the chair and stared at the man for a beat. "Fitz was alone and as far as I knew homeless when we first met. He tried to swipe my wallet and I caught him. I suppose I could have turned him over to the first policeman that crossed our path but when I saw how terrified he was I had second thoughts. My first inclination was to return him to his parents, but he wasn't very forthcoming with information."

"So you just assumed the boy had no one and whisked him away." Gordon almost laughed.

"I've been working with people for a long time, Mr. Gordon. I don't make assumptions. Fitz and I spent some time together. I bought him lunch and he accompanied me to a property I was interested in purchasing. I offered to take him home and he broke down. Someone was hurting him, forcing him to pick pockets and who knew what else. I found out later it was James Grant."

"And you know this James Grant was not the boy's father?" Gordon prodded.

Phil smiled as he smoothed his hand over the leg of his trousers. "I didn't at the time, but I did know he was hurting Fitz and I wasn't about to take him back to that environment. It was late. I couldn't leave him alone and he wouldn't give any information so I took him with me with the intention of contacting the local Children Services in the morning."

"And did you?"

Phil shook his head. "I did not. I decided to try to find his family with the help of my agency. It may not have been my best idea but the kid was scared and I couldn't put him into danger."

"The danger Children's Services would put him in?" Gordon asked, feigning confusion.

"He was just as terrified of that plan as he was of going back to Grant." Phil explained. "It took a few weeks to gain his trust and get the information about his mother, unfortunately she was already deceased. Once that was established there was no question that my wife and I would try to become his guardians. That and having a run in with Grant, who tried to harm not only Fitz but our daughter, Jemma as well."

Gordon continued pressing Phil for details regarding his taking Fitz from Sheffield but every 't' was crossed and every 'i' was dotted. There was no way to shake the story. The Coulson's had done everything they should have done and did it correctly. With no further questions Gordon ended his cross examination and dropped into his seat next to Dunn.

The judge adjourned for the day by four thirty and reminded the Coulsons to have Fitz in his chambers at ten o clock the next morning. The older man smiled saying he would give them an extra hour for the boy to sleep off the remnants of the doctor's sedative.

Melinda sighed as Phil carried a drowsy Fitz to the car. The judge had no idea what kind of night they would have. Once that sedative wore off the last thing any of them would do was sleep.

XX

"And you are sure of this," Phil asked over the form he held in one hand while sipping coffee with the other.

"Positively," Mack nodded

"Absolutely," Hunter said at the same time.

"Every item has been verified, sir." Bobbi added. "Elena is bringing the woman herself."

"Turns out she was not what any of us imagined," Hunter smiled. "Got to get our minds out of the gutter then don't we?" Bobbi lightly backhanded him across the shoulder.

"How did you find her?" Phil asked as he poured a second cup of coffee and stirred sugar and cream into it.

"When Emilie found out she was pregnant she tried to get clean. Michaela Clark was her mentor. Stayed with her for years after, trying to keep her that way. The medicine Fitz talked about was methadone. I guess she fell off the wagon quite a few times and found her way back to Micki, as the girl was known. We found her accidentally actually," Bobbi admitted with a crooked smile.

"Our agents went to inquire at rehabs in the Edinburgh area thinking she was an addict and hoping someone recognized the name. A tip sent them to the local hospital where they were pretty sure they'd be speaking to a coroner. Turned out she was still in the area. She took a job at a hospital in Edinburgh. They tracked her down and she was more than willing to tell them everything she knew about Emilie Fitz _and_ Alistair Dunn. Apparently, she was Emilie's confidant for all those years." Mack filled him in with more details.

"And, she stills keeps her cats…although she has managed to kick the nicotine habit." Hunter jested as he leaned back on the chair he had plopped into a few minutes earlier.

Phil looked at the clock. It was seven a.m. Melinda was still asleep with Fitz snuggled close to her. Skye had also joined them at some point during the night, more than likely missing her parents' attention in the last few days. The little girl was cuddled up to her brother probably giving him more support than he realized he needed. He'd been restless until his little sister joined the slumber party in their parents' bed. Phil wondered how he would wake Skye without disturbing Melinda or Fitz.

Despite the ongoing chaos of this asinine trial, the Coulson did their best to keep a normal routine with their other children and that meant waking everyone by seven thirty to start the mad morning preparation for the school day. The judge's granting of extra time on this morning meant he and Melinda could drop off Skye at preschool thereby avoiding the bellowing protests she would put up when Bobbi and Hunter attempted to do so. Jemma and Trip would board their respective buses by eight thirty.

Phil let out a sigh and opened the refrigerator. He stood staring into its depths debating on what the breakfast menu would be that morning.

"Hey, I got this," Mack smiled as he reached past the man and snagged a carton of eggs. "You take care of the rousting and I'll make sure they're fed." He was already pulling out utensils and pans as Bobbi pulled the toaster from its spot on the counter and a loaf of bread from the cabinet.

Hunter raised his hands. "I'm not much of a cook, but I'm a master at clean up." He smiled as Coulson let out a less than amused laugh and headed for the stairs.

xx

Picking up Skye and carrying her from the room was easier than Phil thought. Fitz stirred a little feeling the loss of the warm body next to him which Phil quickly replaced with a pillow and blanket. He whisked Skye from the room before she had a chance to make a sound and hurried into Jemma's room where he gently shook her shoulder and smiled when she blinked up at him a still snoozing Skye. As usual the little girl slipped out of bed and hurried to use the bathroom. He knew she would take care of her own needs and be dressed and at the table before he could wrestle Skye out of her PJ's.

Trip woke with his own alarm. He'd already showered and met his father in the hall with a quick good morning before he lightly bounced down the stairs. Phil stepped into his youngest daughter's room, took a deep breath and shook Skye awake.

She pushed back the hair from her eyes and smiled. "Hi, daddy."

"G'morning, angel eyes," Phil smiled as he pressed his forehead to hers.

Skye let out a long yawn and stretched as Phil set her on the floor. "Where momma?" She looked in all directions and started for the door before Phil grabbed her hand and put a finger over her lips.

"Momma is very sleepy this morning," he whispered. "We're going to let her stay in bed a little longer." He waited, expecting and preparing for the wail that would come as Skye's bottom lip turned out for a moment as she looked toward the door.

"Fizt be noan happy. Him bees frade, daddy. I hoed him tight." She turned back to Phil nodding in agreement with herself.

He let out the breath he was holding. For as much as this little one had experienced she still showed so much concern for her brothers and sister, almost knowing when they were hurt or sick and needed comfort.

"Yes, angel, Fitz is not happy and you were such a big helper but he needs momma right now. He needs to feel safe." Phil assured her as he pulled her closer.

"Momma noan happy, daddy?" Skye asked with wide eyes.

Phil lifted the little girl into his arms. "Momma is trying very hard to be happy for all of us, angel. I think that might be why she needs to sleep a little longer."

"I non't make no noises, daddy. I be too quite." She wriggled from his grip and slid to the floor once again heading for the door, this time on tiptoe.

Once again, Phil grabbed her hand. She turned back to her father and frowned. "I gotsa pee-pee, daddy." The man dropped his head and smiled then scooped her up and hurried to the bathroom.

XX

Melinda made her way down the stairs in time to kiss her elder children and bid them a good day before they were out the door to school. Jemma hugged her a little tighter and a lot longer than usual then looked over her shoulder twice before boarding the school van. Melinda braced herself as her youngest plowed into her bouncing to be picked up.

"You take-a me a skoo aday!" She smiled as she wrapped her arms around Melinda's neck and planted a sloppy kiss on her cheek. She leaned back and studied her mother's face for a moment. "You feole moer to happy now you sleeped moer, momma?" She looked around her mother on the left and then the right. "Where Fizt? Him sleep a-moer?"

Melinda held her close and kissed her cheek. "He's coming bao bei." She turned with the little girl in her arms and watched as her little boy made his way slowly down the stairs. She wrapped an arm around him as he joined her then walked her younger children to the kitchen.

Phil was on the phone speaking softly to, she presumed, their lawyer from what she could hear of the conversation. Hunter stood at the sink washing dishes and whistling some soft tune that probably had words children should not hear. Bobbi was nowhere to be seen and she caught a glimpse of Mack's car as he backed out of the driveway.

"He's picking her up at two…directly to the courthouse…there won't be time for that…yes, I've got the disposition from my team…ten, yes we will be there…." Phil finished the conversation and turned to his family.

"Hey, you," he smiley glared at Skye. "I thought we were going to let momma and Fitz sleep."

"I no wake-a momma." Skye giggled as she shook her head.

Melinda bent around her baby to kiss her husband. Fitz still held tightly to her waist. "She's innocent, Phil. We woke on our own, right Fitz?" She looked down at him. The boy yawned and nodded slowly.

Phil took Skye from his wife and pulled out a chair for Melinda to sit. Hunter turned and smiled. "Got your tea, luv." He pulled a china cup and saucer from the cabinet and carried it and the tea pot to the table setting it next to her. "Bobbi's in the shower downstairs, but she made extra. I can pop it in the nuker for you." He offered.

Phil placed Skye on the floor and helped Fitz into a chair of his own, giving Melinda the chance to take a breath. She poured the tea into her cup and let it set for a second before taking a sip and shaking her head at Hunter's offer. He shrugged and turned to Fitz.

"How 'bout you mate? Breakfast?" He smiled at the boy.

"You should probably have something, Fitz." Phil told him.

"You wan own jews?" Skye asked as she wriggled between her brother's chair and her father's legs. "I git it." She wriggled away just as quickly.

Fitz smiled as his little sister disappeared behind their parents then shook his head. "I don't care for any, Skye." He looked to his father. "May I have tea with dry toast?" Phil nodded and Hunter clapped his hands together then rubbed them quickly.

"Now that's a breakfast I can handle." He smiled as he wriggled his eyebrows and pulled the loaf of bread from where Bobbi had put it.

"You take-a me a skool aday, Fizt." Skye informed her brother. He looked to his parents for verification.

Phil nodded. "We don't have to be at court until ten this morning."

Fitz put a hand to his head and rested his elbow on the table. "I don't want to go." He mumbled

"I know, bao bao but we have to go. The judge wants to talk to you, just you." Melinda rubbed her hand on his back as she spoke.

"Why?" The boy was alarmed and sat upright quickly. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Fizt get a go my skoo agin?" Skye chirped as she stood on a chair and poured orange juice…everywhere

xx

Melinda sat on a wooden bench in the wide courthouse hallway. Fitz sat next to her as Phil spoke with Alex a few feet away. She glanced up at the large clock on the opposite wall…nine forty five. Smiling down at her little boy, she squeezed his cold hand. He did not smile back. Alex approached slowly, holding her briefcase in front of her with two hands.

"It's almost time, Fitz. Are you ready?" She asked quietly.

The little boy shook his head and scooted closer to his mother. "Why can't mom and da take me? Why can they just walk with me to the door?" He asked without looking up at the lawyer.

"We'll be right here, Fitz. You just have to walk down the hall with Alex. You'll be able to see us all the while." Phil assured him.

Melinda wrapped an arm around the little boy, pulling him closer. "We talked about this Fitz. All the judge wants to do is talk to you. You aren't in any trouble. It will just be him and you for a little while."

"I don't like to talk." Fitz mumbled into his mother's side. He looked up at her. "What if I say the wrong thing or make all of this worse. I always make things worse. I just want to go home." He ended in little more than a whisper meant only for Melinda's ears.

Melinda pulled the child to his feet and stood her in front of him. "Fitz, you are the bravest little boy I know. You are my hero over and over again. You might get yourself in trouble more often than not, but you _do_ say the right thing and you make things better for me and daddy and your brother and sisters more times than you know." She put a finger under the boy's chin and raised his head to look her in the eye. "You go in there and you tell the truth and you answer the questions. We'll be here when you come out and it will be all over."

Fitz let out a defeated sigh and tilted his head to one side. "Like the dentist…" he breathed.

Melinda laughed as she pulled him into a hug. "Yes, bao boa, like the dentist." It was their little bit of encouragement. Fitz hated the dentist. Melinda would tell him to just think about how he would feel when he was finished and they were on their way home. She realized she'd just said exactly the same thing she did every time he dragged himself into the dentist's chair. She squeezed him again looking over his head at Alex who gave a quick 'it's time' nod. With a swift kiss she stood him up and Phil pulled him into another tight hug before Alex reached out a hand. Fitz looked at it for a second before taking it in his own and following her down the hall.

He didn't look back. He knew his parents were there…watching him. He knew if he turned around he would race back and never let go. Alex smiled down at him before she turned the large black door knob and opened the oversized door


	6. Nailing Nightmares - Conclusion

**CONCLUSION**

"Good morning, Fitz" Judge Harmon smiled as he stepped from behind his desk. Fitz stared for a moment, taking in the man's appearance sans his long back robe and dark rimmed spectacles. Was it possible the man was smaller?

"Good morning, sir" The little boy replied just a bit above a whisper after Alex shook the hand, she still held, lightly.

Judge Harmon gave Alex a nod letting her know it was time to leave. She quietly said a quick good bye and promised to be back for him as soon as the judge called then exited the room leaving the little boy facing the man who looked a lot taller up close.

Fitz took in the office walls lined with shelves full of thick tomes. The little boy could smell the musty odor of old books. The desk was messy, covered with papers and files, certainly not neat and orderly like Da's desk in his office at home. There were three big leather chairs that also looked worn and old. Dark blotches stained the top of the back rests and arms where years of occupants had left their marks. Even the rug was worn where people scuffed their feet while seated there. A woman sat at a small table in the rear of the room with a stenograph machine in front of her. She did not react to him seeing her, almost as if she was trying to blend into the background. Fitz took a deep breath and looked up at the judge.

"That is Mrs. Bonivitch. She is the court…" the judge started.

"Stenographer," Fitz finished. "She keeps the transcripts of what we say." He said looking back at the woman.

"Yes," the judge smiled and motioned toward one of the leather chairs. "Would you like to sit down?" He asked, impressed by the boy's knowledge and command of language. He pointed to a small table in front of his desk. "I've had some sweets brought in…thought you might enjoy a doughnut or maybe a sweet roll."

Fitz shoved his hands into his pockets, looked at the dish of assorted treats and shook his head. "No thank you, sir. My mom doesn't like us to eat sweets so early in the morning. She's says it's not a proper way to start the day."

"Hmmm," Judge Harmon nodded as he bit into a powdery white donut wrapped in a napkin. He chewed as he walked to his desk then set it down and wiped the sugar from his mouth and tie. "You're not allowed some special privileges once in a while?" He asked around a final swallow.

Fitz nodded. "Yes sir, we have dessert almost every night, but mom says it's not good to start the day full of sugar. Mostly we have eggs or omelets that Da makes for us."

Taking a sip from a Styrofoam cup on the desk Harmon turned back to the boy. "I see, so she'd be angry if you did indulge?" He raised his eyebrows with curiosity.

The boy shrugged his shoulders, looking longingly at the dish where he spied his favorite Boston Cream.

"She won't know if you change your mind." The judge noticed the boy's wishful look and sniggered as he took another bite.

"I'd know." Fitz remarked as he turned from the plate and wriggled on to one of the large chairs, hands still deep in both pockets.

"I see," the judge pursed his lips and nodded a few times. "You think you'd be punished?"

Fitz furrowed his brow and shook his head. "No sir, but my mom would be disappointed."

"It's important…how your mother feels?" The judge inquired nonchalantly.

Fitz frowned and looked at the man as if he should know the answer. "She's my _mom_." He corrected the man.

The judge nodded as he finished the last of his doughnut and wiped his mouth and fingers. He drained his coffee cup and dropped it into the waste basket. "Do you know why we're here, Fitz?"

"You wanted to talk to me, sir, but I suspect you mean why we are here at all…the reason for all of this." Fitz replied as he pulled his hands free.

"Exactly," the judge sat in his chair and folded his hands on his desk. "I'm told you are a very smart young man."

Fitz swallowed then took a deep breath. He didn't really care if the judge thought he was smart or if the man was trying to give him some kind of compliment. He just wanted this to be over. "You are going to decide if I get to stay with my parents or go with Mr. Dunn." He paused for a moment and looked at his own hands folded in his lap. For a few moments he said nothing and the judge allowed the silence, not pressing the boy to say more than he wanted. Fitz squirmed a little and mumbled. "I don't want to go with him." He shook his head. "I don't know him and I am quite sure I don't like him." He thought for a moment about telling the judge the man had squinty eyes but that wouldn't really mean anything in the long run.

"You didn't always know the Coulsons, did you?" The judge remarked as he looked at the forms on his desk. "You only met them just a little over a year ago. Did you like them when you first met?"

"They wanted to help me. I was all alone and that…" The boy's face grew dark as he looked to the window and drew a very deep breath. "That bloody bastard, Grant, took away my maw." Fitz pulled his hands into tight fists and thumped them on his knees. "He was a terrible man and I'm glad he's dead. My mom saved me or he would have killed me as well and who knows what he would have done to Jemma and Trip!" Without realizing it, Fitz stood and moved to the judge's desk slamming his small fist on it with each word.

The judge watched the boy but did not react. He neither encouraged nor discouraged the boy's anger. "Can you tell me about your maw, Fitz?" The man asked calmly interlacing his fingers and resting his hands in front of him on the desk.

Fitz looked at his fist and slowly slid it off the judge's desk, dropping his arm to his side. Realizing how rapidly his breath was coming, the boy took small deep breaths to calm himself before continuing. "Sometimes I miss her so much it hurts to breath." He remarked as he backed to the chair and leaned against the edge of the seat. "My mom says that's okay. She says I'll always miss her and someday it won't hurt so much. She tells me it's okay to love my maw even though she's not here with me. She tells me she loves me."

"And that's okay…that your _mom_ loves you when you really love your maw." The judge was careful to use the correct terminology.

The little boy nodded as he took another deep breath. "I grew inside my _maw_ and she birthed me but she was sick and couldn't take care of me as well as some mothers, but she loved me and I loved her." He stopped for a moment and swallowed the urge to let himself cry. "My mom tells us we grew in her heart and my da's heart too. I don't know how to explain that to you." He looked up at the judge. "I know what it means because she grew in my heart too. My mom tells me she has to love me twice as much because she loves me for my maw, too. She says that's what mothers do. I believe her because I love her, not like I loved my maw. It's different, but it's still love."

"But you didn't always love her, did you?" The judge prodded.

Fitz smiled a tiny bit. "I didn't always know her, but I do now and now I love her. When I was with my maw, lots of times I was hungry or cold. Sometimes we had no place to live so we stayed in the park or went to a shelter when it was really cold or rainy. I tried to take care of her. My mom says I was brave but I was really scared all the time. Then my maw fell in with Grant and I was more scared than ever. It was difficult being scared all the time. Sometimes I was afraid to sleep because I didn't know what he would do to me or my maw. He hurt me…" Fitz paused, blocking the memory of James Grant and his belt. "Then my da found me I was scared when he first took me to Sheffield, but scared like I was with Grant. My mom scared me a little because I thought she was always so cross, but she was really just worried about a lot. I dint know what would happen but they just made sure I had food and clothes and a place to sleep."

"So you stopped being afraid?" The judge asked.

"No," Fitz shook his head. "I was then afraid they'd go away and leave me or hand me off to social services, but they didn't, even when I was cheeky or a rascal. They just kept treating me the same. Then we came here and Trip came to live with us and then Skye and we made a family, all of us together." Fitz voice began to rise again. "We need each other, all of us."

"But, Fitz, you know that the tests show that Mr. Dunn is your father." The judge explained. "He'd like a chance to show you that."

"He's _not_ my father!" Fitz shouted balling his fists. "He is just a man that wants to take me away from my family. My da is Phil Coulson. He's the only da I ever had and the only one I ever want to have."

"Okay, Fitz, let's take a few minutes and calm down. Would you like a drink?" The man spoke evenly as he pointed toward a large water cooler but the boy shook his head and took several deep breaths, letting them out slowly. He pushed himself back as far on the large chair as he could and tried to relax his hands as he rested them on the wide arm rests.

"What would you say to just talking with Mr. Dunn? You could meet him right here in my office. Do you think you could do that?" The judge asked quietly as the boy continued to breathe rapidly.

Fitz blew short breaths out of puffed cheeks and dug his nails into the soft leather of the chair's arm rests. He took the time he needed to calm himself, then spoke. "Will my mom and da be here too?"

The judge shook his head as he stood, walked around the desk then leaned back on it. "I don't think that would be fair to Mr. Dunn. He'd like a chance to talk just to you. I will make sure there is a court officer here with you." He explained.

Fitz shook his head. "I don't want to give him a chance. I just want to go home." Suddenly, he sounded more like a scared little boy than a child genius.

The judge leaned back on his desk, pausing for a moment before posing his next question. "Maybe you can help me to understand, Fitz. Can you tell me how the Coulsons are so different than Mr. Dunn?" The judge asked.

Fitz looked toward the large windows covered with heavy curtains, blinking away errant tears. "I told you that I grew in my parents' hearts just like I grew inside my maw. Then they grew in my heart. _That's_ how you know you love someone. _That's_ how you become a family." He stopped and waited for the judge to react. When he did not, the boy continued. Turning to the judge, he tried to explain. "Mr. Dunn didn't even _know_ I grew in my maw. My maw didn't talk about him or miss him like my mom misses my da when he goes away. I _didn't_ grow inside him." Fitz shook his head as he looked down at his hands. "I didn't grow in his heart either. He looks at me like he's angry with me, not like da looks at me even when I mess up really bad. He wasn't even that angry when I pinched his wallet and his phone." The boy shook his head and let out a frustrated breath thinking the man could not possibly understand. He looked at the judge and quickly swiped a tear from his eye. "Your honor," he addressed the man as he'd heard Alex do in the courtroom and waited to be acknowledged.

"Yes, Fitz…"

"I don't want to talk about it anymore. I think I really need my mom now." His voice cracked.

The man nodded and pushed a button on his desk. A few seconds later Alex entered the room and ushered the boy back to his parents.

XX

Alex smiled as she led Fitz from the room through a different door than they had entered. She explained to the boy she was in a different part of the courthouse and had to grab a few notes from her clerk before heading for the courtroom. Fitz nodded his understanding and hoped it wouldn't take long.

They turned down two different halls before he spied a young woman heading toward them. She did not look happy and held a large file with both hands. Alex must have thought the same thing. She stopped and let out a loud sigh then turned to Fitz.

"How about you sit here for a second while I take care of this? It will be quick I promise." She pointed toward one of the now very familiar wooden benches that were placed in every hallway. Fitz nodded and walked the short distance to the seat then plopped down at the far end. He rested his elbow on the arm rest and his chin on his hand as he watched the two women move to the large windowsill and open the file. It didn't appear it would be very quick.

Fitz rubbed his arm across his eyes, erasing the end of his tears. He swung his feet back and forth and looked up and down the hallway for a clock wondering if his mom was watching the big clock in the hall where she waited. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back until it bumped the wall behind him then peeked through a little crack in his eyelids at the women who now appeared to be arguing. He let out a silent sigh.

Maybe if he'd kept his eyes open he would have seen the large hand that grabbed his wrist and pulled him up from the bench and around the thin wall that formed a walkway to the nearest rest rooms. His eyes sprung wide open as he looked into the glare of Alistair Dunn.

"Hello, Leopold," the man smiled as he pushed one hand against the boy's mouth and held his shoulder in a pinching grip with the other. Fitz let out a tiny protest, silenced by the man pressing his hand harder and pinching tighter.

"Sad that this is the way I have to meet my only son," Dunn sneered. Fitz tried to shake his head but the pain in his neck and shoulder stopped him. "Oh, yes laddie you are _my_ flesh and blood and when this is over," He paused and glanced around the wall, probably checking to see if Alex had noticed the boy was no longer there. Turning back to Fitz he spoke in a hoarse whisper close enough to the boy's face that he could smell the stale tobacco on his breath. "When this whole bloody damn farce is over, you and me will be back to the highlands where you'll be earning your keep with that big brain of yours." He let go of Fitz's shoulder just long enough to roughly poke his temple to emphasize the last of his statement. The boy sunk with a short reprieve before the man grabbed the same spot with renewed pressure as he pulled his hand from Fitz's mouth and warned him with a finger to his lips to stay quiet.

"You're hurting me…." Fitz sighed.

"You think this is pain?" The man almost laughed in his odd whisper. He squeezed harder and shook the boy. Fitz reached up to grab the hand that held him. "You'll learn quick, lad, you'll learn to mind me and do as yer told. I understand you have some talent with mechanics that might come in useful in my line and I've a few ideas myself for gadgets that will be all the more useful, laddie. You'll be using those smarts to put your ole da in the lifestyle he deserves."

"I'll not help you, not ever." Fitz groaned.

Alistair shook him roughly, bringing a new level of pain to the boy's shoulder. "A few licks of the strap'll teach ya to do as I say as soon as I say it and there'll be no snivelin' like a wee babe. No, my genius son…and that ya got from me not yer worthless addict mother…"

Fitz started to protest but was silenced by the hand and the pinch that proceeded a snap that made the boy's legs turn to jelly. He knew if the man wasn't holding him he would be on the floor. Dunn shook him again.

"Not a word, boy…" he pointed a finger in Fitz's face. "Not one word or I won't wait for that damn yank judge…I'll come creepin' into yer very home and no one'll see the likes of you again." He pulled the boy close and spoke close to his ear, a wide toothy smile across his face. "I'll be sure to take care of those perfect Coulsons as well, the whole lot of them." With that he spun Fitz back around the corner and forced him into the seat then quickly disappeared down the short hallway toward the rest rooms.

Fitz pushed himself up from the position Dunn dropped him. Alex and the other woman were still speaking as they pushed papers back into the file. The lawyer turned and smiled at the boy before dismissing the clerk and motioning for him to join her. She frowned as he ignored the silent request. He was probably upset she'd made him wait so long. Taking a deep breath, Alex sighed and crossed the hall to stand in front of the boy.

"Sorry that took a little longer than I thought, Fitz. Let's go find your mom." Alex smiled as she held out a hand toward him. The boy stared at it blankly, silently refusing to accept the lawyer's offer. Alex let her hand drop slowly, assuming Fitz was upset she'd made him wait was probably right. He must have been fidgeting something fierce as his shirt was pulled from his belt on one side and his hair looked a bit more disheveled than usual. "Okay," she breathed with a hint of frustration. "Come on then, but stay close." She took a few steps and turned back to see he had not moved. "I said I was sorry Fitz, but it was very important." She held out the hand that was not clutching her briefcase. When he still did not respond she took a step toward him. "Fitz, honey, are you alright?" She moved to place a hand on his shoulder. He stared up at her, stood then walked in the direction she had been heading.

Alex shrugged her shoulders and followed.

XX

Melinda paced in front of the courtroom doors as Phil sat and bounced his heels on the well polished marble floor. Alex rounded the corner with Fitz a few steps behind and wriggled her fingers at the couple. Melinda breathed a sigh of relief. Phil stood and brushed his hands together.

Alex had paused to tidy up her young client before returning him to his parents. No sense having either think she shirked the responsibility they'd entrusted to her. He'd been less than cooperative but she brushed it off as him being a ten year old boy who probably wasn't too keen on being fussed over by some very inexperienced woman.

Melinda smiled and took the little boy's hand a moment before the courtroom doors opened and the bailiff informed them the proceedings were about to begin. The group entered the large room and stood as the judge took his seat at the bench.

With a bang of the gavel, court was in session.

Fitz sat on the far side of Melinda and sat back against the bench refusing to look toward Dunn and his lawyer. That changed when William Gordon called his one and only witness to the stand…Alistair Dunn.

The man's tie was now straight and his hair slicked back. He smirked at Fitz at he took the stand and gave a fast wink. The boy felt his stomach turn and looked down as Melinda grasped his hand. Even that simple form of support sent shards of pain from his finger tips to his jaw.

He pulled his hand away and stared ahead. One look at his mom would break his resolve and he would collapse into her. Melinda knew something was wrong. She turned to her son and noticed the sheen of sweat on his brow…at the slight shiver that ran through him every few seconds. Looking to the stand she assumed the presence of the man there was the reason. She leaned down and whispered in Fitz's ear.

"Do you want to wait in the lounge, Fitz? I don't think they're going to need you here."

"No," he answered quickly, a bit too loud as every eye turned toward them. Fitz looked to the floor and whispered, "no, I want to stay with you and da." He moved closer to Melinda but held his left hand on his lap protectively.

Dunn swore to tell the truth, stated his name and address for the record then waited for Gordon to begin. Fitz couldn't help notice the difference in the tone of the man's voice. Gone was the hoarse growl as he now spoke in a quiet reserved manner.

The lawyer smiled as he approached the stand. "Mr. Dunn can you tell the court when and how you came to know Emilie Fitz?"

Dunn smiled widely and leaned forward. "I met sweet Emmy at a Christmas party in Glasgow. It was for the company I worked and she was there with a friend. We had a few drinks and one thing led to another. We ended up at the pub later in the evening. We saw each other quite a few times after and every time I was in Glasgow."

"So you knew each other well?" Gordon asked as he turned to Alex.

"We did." The man responded.

"And what can you tell me about your relationship?"

"Like I said…we saw each other as often as we could. I was doing a bit of traveling but I always made it a point to see her when I could but things started to change."

"Can you tell us how?"

Dunn took a deep dramatic breath. "She just seemed different. I guess that was when she started using drugs an…."

"Objection," Alex stood, "the witness is making an assumption that cannot be proved or disproved."

"Sustained," the judge agreed.

Gordon nodded. "So you felt she was acting differently, did you ever see her use drugs or know of anyone giving her drugs?"

Dunn shook his head. "No sir, never saw her use but there were these people she would meet when we were about. They'd pass her small bits of something. I didn't ask what it was but later she'd act dazed or confused, like she might need to sleep it off."

"Objection," Alex repeated.

"Sustained," the judge agreed again. "Move along Mr. Gordon we get the idea."

"So when is the last time you saw Ms. Fitz?"

"Round the end of March of eighty seven," Dunn answered calmly.

"And did you ever see her again?" Gordon continued.

"Twice," Dunn answered. "Both times in the summer of ninety four, she was looking for money. That's when I found out about my son." He added. "She looked like bloody hell, hardly recognized her. I told her I needed to see the lad, told her I'd take him…make it easier for her. I offered her quite a bit of money in return for the lad. She agreed to meet me with him the following day, but ran off before I could do anything."

"Did you think she was capable for caring for the boy?"

"Objection," Alex spoke again. "Mr. Dunn is not an expert in child care or social service. He cannot make that determination."

"Sustained," the judge sighed.

Gordon smiled. "Let me rephrase that question. Mr. Dunn did you feel Emilie Fitz was well enough to care for the child?"

"Objection," Alex stood again. "Mr. Dunn is not a doctor. He could not determine Ms. Fitz's state of being at the time."

Fitz squirmed a bit in his seat causing Melinda to wrap an arm around him. "Shhh," she started to comfort him but the boy let out a whimper that turned into a sob. He wrapped his right hand around his left elbow.

"Don't…please," he cried weakly.

Melinda again noticed the sweat on his brow and put a hand to his head, feeling the heat beneath it.

"Is there a problem, Mrs. Coulson?" The judge asked as once again all attention turned to her and Fitz.

She looked to the little boy who stared up at her with tears streaming over his cheeks. "He hurt me, mom…" Fitz whispered to his mother and nodded toward the man on the stand.

Melinda reached to examine her son, kicking herself mentally for not realizing his pain earlier. He pleaded with her not to touch him but she unbuttoned his shirt and immediately saw the large bruise between his neck and shoulder. She looked to Phil who stood and glared at Dunn.

"Is there a problem, Mrs. Coulson?" The judge asked again. Both lawyers faced the Coulsons but looked back toward the judge and waited for a response.

"Who hurt you Fitz? Who did this to you?" Melinda's anger simmered. She could not believe the judge would harm a child, but Fitz had spent the last hour with the man and now this. She glanced at Alex who seemed just as confused.

The young lawyer shook her head. "He was fine when he left the judge's chamber. We came straight to you…" She stopped remembering she'd been distracted by the clerk in the hallway. Alex put a hand to her mouth. "Oh, my gawd…"

The gavel banged causing everyone to jump. Fitz groaned loudly as he slumped against his mother.

"Fitz?" She asked again.

"Young man, can you tell us who caused this injury?" The judge was on his feet, directing the bailiff toward the Coulson's.

Fitz raised his uninjured arm and pointed to Dunn. "It was him did it. He hurt me." The boy spoke loud enough to be heard across the courtroom.

"The boy is clearly lying," Dunn shouted as he rose to his feet. "I've had no contact with him, thanks to this farce and yer all witness to that. I've been sittin' in this room with you all day to day trying to get back what's been taken from me" He slammed his hands on the railing that encircled the stand.

"He hurt me mom," Fitz finally gave into his tears and sobbed into his mother's gentle embrace. Phil took a few steps toward the stand. A few nights in a cell would be a small price to pay for breaking that bastard's face. Melinda grabbed his wrist and stopped him glancing at their son who writhed in her arms. Phil dropped to one knee next to the boy and gently massaged his thigh in support.

"Hang on, buddy. Help's on the way."

The judge banged the gavel several times calling for order in the court. "Bailiff, have the court officers take Mr. Dunn into custody until we sort this out and get medical attention for this child." Before Gordon could object, he banged the gavel again. "This court is in recess until the local police speak with young Mr. Fitz."

Dunn roughly pulled his arm away from the officers as Gordon stepped back out of the way. "You cannot do this. You have no proof, nothing. He was with you!" He pointed toward Judge Harmon. "If the boy is hurt, it's your bloody damn doin'!" He continued shouting as he was cuffed and escorted from the courtroom.

XX

Melinda sat next to the bed in the private hospital room. Phil stood outside the door speaking with two detectives. She looked at the little boy sleeping with the help of a strong sedative. For the time being the boy's arm and shoulder were immobilized with a wrap and plenty of ice. Tomorrow he'd be fitted for a sling that would hold both in place until his broken clavicle healed. A complete examination also found bruising inside the boy's mouth where his teeth had ground into his lip.

Fitz tearfully related the story of Dunn accosting him in the hall while he waited for Alex to finish her business. The lawyer herself was in tears wrought with guilt for what she had not even seen happen. Phil tried to console her while just a look from Melinda was enough to cause her to tremble.

The emergency room was full of photographers and the doctors took swabs of the inside of the boy's mouth. His clothes were bagged and labeled as the incident was being treated as an assault...a crime against a child.

Melinda stood at the window clenching and unclenching her fists when Phil reentered the room. He paused at the bed to check his son then stepped behind his wife.

"I'd like to rip out his throat," she growled low and threatening. "How could he put Fitz through this?" She spun into Phil's embrace. "Do you know what this means?" She couldn't cry. She was too angry.

Phil didn't answer. He didn't have to…he knew she how she felt. He felt the same. The only good thing was that this would end any chance of Dunn ever nullifying their adoption. The flip side was that Fitz would again have to face the man in court.

"I know," he whispered into her hair.

Melinda pulled back and moved to sit on the end of the bed. "They're going to keep him overnight, just for observation. We can take him home tomorrow. How much more can he take, Phil? He's been through so much trauma. He's just a little boy and it just doesn't end."

Phil stood next to his son and brushed his hand across the boy's curls. "He's tough, Mel, tougher than we think. We'll get him through this, just like everything else."

"He threatened to break into our house and take him, Phil. That bastard threatened our family…my babies." She drew a ragged breath. "He broke our child's shoulder and…terrorized him right in the same building…where _we_ thought he was safe…where _we_ told him he was safe. God, how can he ever trust us again?" She finished in little more than a whisper.

"Maybe you should get some rest, Mel." Phil sighed.

"I'm staying right here, Phil. I won't leave him alone again, ever." Melinda swore.

Phil wrapped an arm around her and kissed her forehead. "You can't hold him forever, Mel."

"Watch me," she growled back.

Both turned toward the soft knock on the door but before either could answer it opened admitting a sniffling Jemma who ran to her mother, wrapping her arms around her tightly. Trip followed close behind, carrying an unusually quiet Skye who reached out to her father as soon as she spotted him. Bobbi entered last giving both of her bosses a weak smile.

"I'm really sorry, but they just wouldn't take no for an answer. If I didn't bring them, no one would have gotten any rest." She explained. Phil smiled and gave her a quick nod as he rocked his baby gently.

"I'm sorry, Da," Trip shook his head. "We had to see the little guy. We needed to see for ourselves he was okay. Bobbi told me what happened. That bas…" He paused with a quick glance around the room. "I'd like to give that jerk someone his own size to pick on…"

Phil smiled at his eldest, resting a hand on the boy's shoulder, he gave a firm squeeze. "Dunn is right where he belongs, Trip."

"Oh, momma…" Jemma sobbed. "Poor Fitz, he's always the one to be hurt." She looked at her brother and sobbed harder.

"It's okay, bao bao. The doctors gave him something to help him sleep and to stop the pain. We won't see him til morning so why don't all of you go with Bobbi and get a good night's rest. The doctor said we can bring Fitz home tomorrow."

"No way, mom," Trip shook his head. "We're his family. We're here for him and for you. We aren't leaving."

Jemma shook her head, agreeing with her older brother. "We were worried about all of you."

Bobbi shrugged her shoulders. "Like I said…there was no changing their minds."

"I stay to Fizt, too." Skye nodded. "Him bees mine brudder foe ebber and ebber."

Phil looked to Melinda and smiled again. She bent to place a kiss on Jemma's head and pulled Trip into the hug they shared. The young boy was right. They were a family and they would stand together even if it meant spending the night in a small hospital room.

XX

Two weeks later the Coulsons once again entered the courtroom. Fitz stayed close, still bound by a shoulder/arm immobilizer that he'd wear for at least the three more weeks.

Judge Harmon called the session to order. Alex informed him she had no questions for Alistair Dunn after the judge informed the man he was still under oath. He also made a point of letting both lawyers know that Mr. Dunn was being held without bail in the matter of assault in addition to other charges. As Gordon has no other witnesses, Alex asked to call a rebuttal witness and Michaela Clark was sworn in to testify.

The woman spent no time negating pretty much everything Dunn had said a few weeks earlier. Yes, Emilie Fitz was an addict but she tried desperately to get clean. From the moment she found she was pregnant until Fitz was almost two she succeeded, took a few classes, held down a part time job and shared an apartment with another single mother as part of a government rehab program. When the funding ran out, Emilie lost her apartment and the means to continue her studies. It was easy to slip back into her old habits, with a few half hearted attempts to try again. Fitz had just turned eight when Micki moved to Edinburgh and lost contact with her friend. Micki told the court that Emilie had worked as a waitress on several occasions. The woman had a an unforgiving life but she was adamant she would never ever sell her favors to support her child or her habit.

When asked about Dunn Micki said she'd never heard the man's name but Emilie had told her about the man she met in a bar one night when she was clear headed enough to remember what she had done. It was March and it was cold and raining and he offered her a hot meal and a warm bed. She accepted, knowing what the price would be. In the morning he was gone. He left her the equivalent of fifty U.S. dollars and…Fitz. She never saw the man again.

Emilie swore she had never done anything like it before and never again. Micki had no reason not to believe her. She described the man she knew to be Fitz's father specifically remembering a large red birthmark behind the man's ear. It was clearly apparent that Dunn had the same.

The dates of February twenty seventh and twenty eighth of ninety four were clear in Micki's memory. Emilie and Fitz had spent several nights on the streets of Busby, unable to find shelter in the cold. By the time the young woman made her way to Micki's flat she was feverish and weak. It was the last week of February and Emilie spent it on the local hospital recovering from pneumonia and leaving Fitz in Micki's care.

Gordon did not object to any of the testimony.

When both sides rested the judge informed everyone he would deliberate on everything and have a decision for them by days end. He was true to his word. All parties were called back to the courtroom by five p.m.

Judge Harmon sat for a moment and stacked the forms he held on his desk. He looked over his glasses at Dunn then removed them and smiled at Fitz who was pressed into his mother's side with his father close as well. He took a deep breath before announcing his decision.

"This has been an experience I would not soon like to repeat." The judge began. "I'm sure most of you feel the same. I have heard a multitude of testimony from Ms. Miles and find the Coulsons have provided Leopold James Fitz with emotional and physical support from the day he came to be in their care. While there have been incidents that are far from normal for a child, the Coulsons have seen to it that Fitz has received medical as well as psychological care to overcome it. The teachers, clergy and colleagues that testified here had nothing but praise for the Coulsons and their parenting of not only Leopold but the three other children they have also adopted." Before Phil and Melinda could breathe a sigh of relief the man continued. "However, I cannot over look the fact that Alistair Dunn is the biological parent of Leopold James Fitz." Dunn sat up straighter and smirked at his believed success.

"As such, Mr. Dunn, I cannot help but wonder why you had not contacted the boy or his mother in all the time since his birth. I am appalled at the lies you fabricated in this courtroom. You stated you spoke with the boy's mother in February of ninety four and yet the defense has brought forth evidence clearly showing you were being held in a local constabulary for public brawling in Canberra, Australia on the very same dates. While on the same date Emilie Fitz was hospitalized for which we have documentation from the doctors who treated her there." The judge dropped the forms he held on the desk and once again peered at the man who sat before him. "I cannot imagine what the reason is that brought you here Mr. Dunn other than the small amount of information the authorities got from a terrified child. Is it even possible that you intended to make a profit off of the intelligence of this boy? That he will…" he looked back down at the forms and sorted through them for a few seconds before he continued. "That he will 'earn his keep and do as he is told with the help of the strap'. Tell me Mr. Dunn did you tell your son that before or after you snapped his collarbone."

"I had the unfortunate experience of witnessing your reaction to your son's injury, Mr. Dunn or shall I say you lack of reaction. Not once did you inquire what had happened or how the boy was hurt, in fact according to my sources you also did not once during the last two weeks, ask for any information on the boy's condition." The judge continued.

Alistair Dunn refused to look away. "It doesn't change the fact that he is my blood. You and your court cannot keep him from me." He protested as Gordon tried in vain to silence him.

Fitz buried his face in Phil's jacket as the judge banged the gavel and smiled. "Well, Mr. Dunn you are right about the DNA and it works in a lot of ways." He sorted through the forms again. "It seems that young Mr. Fitz left a bit of his own on the hand you used to force his silence. Lucky for you it is a perfect match once again. This can only mean that young Mr. Fitz was more than honest in telling us all about your little conversation in the hallway."

Dunn stood and raised a fist before Gordon could stop him. Two officers moved to the table. "I demand…" he began.

"Sit down, Mr. Dunn, your demands on this court are exhausted." He banged his gavel once. "Motion to nullify the adoption of Leopold James Fitz by Phillip and Melinda May Coulson is denied." He banged the gavel again.

"I will take this to the high courts in Britain," Dunn spat. "You will not deny me that boy."

"Not only will I deny you Leopold James Coulson Fitz, but I will give you one and only one opportunity to avoid serving the next ten years of your life behind bars." The judge now took on a growl of his own.

Dunn dropped into his seat.

Judge Harmon continued. "Rather than putting young Fitz through a second round of you lying your way through a trial I will give you the opportunity to plead guilty to the charges of assaulting a minor, threatening a minor, and kidnapping. I believe you have also been charged with perjury which in itself holds a penalty of five thousand dollars and an additional ten year sentence. I believe that makes twenty years, Mr. Dunn."

"Your honor," Gordon began. "Is there a plea bargain on the table?"

"As I stated, Mr. Gordon, your client can plead guilty to the charges as read. He can then sign away any parental rights he _never_ had and agree to leave the county immediately. As long as he agrees to stay out of the country the charges will be vacated with prejudice. Should he return or make any attempt to make contact with the Coulson family he will be immediately arrested and sentenced accordingly. I will give you and your client time to discuss this and will expect an answer by week's end."

"Mr. and Mrs. Coulson?" The judge turned to the opposite side of the courtroom. Phil and Melinda stood with Fitz still sandwiched between them. "I thank you for your patience and candor in this matter and Fitz, I apologize for the fact that you had to endure any of it." He slammed the gavel once more. "Phillip and Melinda May Coulson, you may take Leopold James _Coulson_ Fitz home." He smiled at the family and banged the gavel one last time. "This court stands adjourned."

XX

The celebration at the Coulson home lasted well into the evening and once again had Melinda battling to get two small girls into bed before midnight. Fitz had fallen asleep on his father's large recliner in the family room before ten. She checked his bed before grabbing Skye from the top of the stairs for the third time.

"No, no, no baobei. It is bedtime for little girls." She crooned as she scooped the little girl into her arms.

"I non't ty-red, momma. I go a pardee." Skye giggled as she attempted to escape.

Melinda kissed her forehead and laughed. "No more 'pardee', Skye. It is way past your bedtime."

"I sleep-a Jemma's bed, momma." The little girl pulled toward her sister's door as Melinda set her on the floor.

"Nope," Melinda popped the 'p' and scooped her up again as she bumped the bedroom door open with her backside then spun around quickly allowing the little girl to lean back into the twirl. She stopped at the bed and plopped Skye onto her pillow then tapped the end of her nose. "This time you stay in bed and go to sleep. No more fooling because next time momma will not be smiling."

Skye's lip came out in a pout before Melinda leaned down and kissed her again. Three songs later the little girl was sound asleep. Turning to leave the room, Melinda was startled to find Jemma in the doorway. She let out a frustrated sigh.

"Okay, Jemma you need to get back in bed and please go to sleep." She rose and walked to the door resting an arm around the little girl's shoulders and driving her back to her own bed.

"Momma," Jemma spoke just above a whisper. "I can't help but worry about Fitz. What if that horrid man returns?"

Melinda helped the little girl climb into bed and tucked the covers around her. "That is not going to happen Jemma. That man is either going to prison for a very long time or he is going away forever. We don't have to worry about him." She sat down on the bed next to her older daughter.

"But what if someone else tries to take him or Skye or me? What if someone is looking for one of us and…" Jemma worried.

Placing a finger over the little girl's lips stopped her before she could finish. "Whatever happens, Jemma, daddy and I will be here to protect all of you. Your mother and father took care of everything so you would never have to worry about things like that. Daddy and I have signed all the papers and done everything we had to do. No one is looking to take you away." Jemma started to speak but Melinda stopped her a second time. "And Skye had no one, so we are the only family she will ever know. So stop worrying, close your eyes and go to sleep." She kissed the girl with each word then began softly humming until her second child was finally asleep.

Melinda pulled Jemma's door shut and started toward the stairs able to hear the low mumble of conversation from the first floor but her motherly ear detected the soft sound of stifled sobs. She pushed open the Fitz's door and moved to his bed.

"Hey, bao bao, bad dream?"

Fitz rolled toward her and shook his head. He dove into his mother's embrace and stayed that way for several seconds before speaking into it. "Do you still love me, momma?"

Melinda was shocked. She pushed him back just to look in his eyes. "Fitz, I will always love you, always."

The boy cried even harder as he pulled back into the hug. "He's why I'm so bad…I don't want to be like him…not ever." He continued speaking into Melinda's chest.

"Baobei, you are nothing like that man. You are my sweet little boy and you will not ever be like him." She rocked him back and forth placing soft kisses on his head.

He turned and looked up at her. "But I'll grow up and I've got his DNA in me and…and…"

"Fitz, you, more than anyone, know that that is not the only thing that makes a man what he is."

"But, I'm the one always in trouble and I get all angry and bang and slam and yell and use terrible language and make trouble for everyone. I'm the one that always ends up getting my bum smacked." He sniffled.

Melinda smiled. "Yes, you do my beautiful boy, and I still love you to the stars and back and I will _never_ let you become that kind of man." She hugged him tighter and rocked back and forth.

"But what if I can't help it…" Fitz whispered.

"Then I guess you'll just get your bum smacked an awful lot more often." Melinda laughed as she squeezed him and kissed him again. Fitz, groaned and returned the hug.

"I love you, momma, I love you forever." He snuggled into her embrace and closed his eyes. "Promise I won't be like him?" He needed reassurance.

"I promise, baobei. I promise we," she knew her husband had joined them. "We will not let you be anything like him, not ever." She began rocking again and humming the same lullaby that put her girls to sleep. He'd drift off quickly, but would end up in their bed in a few hours needing more reassurance. It would last for weeks, but they'd get through it together.

Phil stood in the doorway and smiled at the sight of Melinda and their son…

 _his_ son

Leopold James Coulson Fitz…

the boy that would never, _ever_ be anything like the monster that was Alistair Dunn.


End file.
